


Thou Doth Protest Too Much

by newbie93



Series: TDPTM [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Activist Fitz, Alternate Universe, F/M, Science Researcher Jemma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 136,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbie93/pseuds/newbie93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of bad luck Leopold Fitz is elated when he stumbles into Jemma Simmons. She's smart, beautiful, and more than capable of holding her own against him in debates. The only problem?</p><p>She's an employee at SciTech... the very research facility that Fitz and the activist organization SHIELD are protesting against.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> The boring disclaimers: All characters etc. belong to MARVEL and AOS. Also, the work of good ol' William Shakespeare inspired the title for this fic.

 

It’s not until Fitz wakes up twenty minutes after he was supposed to that he realizes he’d never set his alarm clock the night before. Normally it wouldn’t be too big of a deal, his lack of steady employment means that his schedule is generally more than flexible, but today was one of the few in which he  _really_ needed to be up on time.

He double-checks the watch on his wrist to confirm what his taunting alarm clock had already told him: late. Late, late, _late._ He has a mere ten minutes to get himself and his accoutrements to the meeting point 6 blocks down from his apartment, and he silently thanks the god he doesn’t really believe in that he’d been smart enough to set everything up next to the door before collapsing asleep in exhaustion last night.

Fitz forgoes his usual morning shower, not willing to give up any of his time today of all days for something as inconsequential as personal hygiene. Though he does shoot the shower a forlorn look as he rushes through brushing his teeth and tugging on the clothes that he’s _pretty_ sure were from the clean hamper.

He glances at his watch again and his eyes widen as he sees the time. 8 minutes left. _Shit._

He bolts out of the bathroom, scooping up his worn Chucks along the way and yanking them onto his feet with a horribly embarrassing set of hops. He desperately wants to take the time to brew himself a cup of coffee but knows that he can’t show up late to the meeting when he’s the one who’d organized the bloody thing in the first place.

He’s about to yell out to Skye that he’s leaving but thinks better of it when he remembers the last time he woke her up before eleven. Instead he sticks a hastily written note on the fridge, reminding her that he’ll be gone all day and _she’ll_ have to be the one doing the grocery shopping this afternoon. 

Fitz tosses the pen onto the nearby couch and makes his way to the flat’s door. The signs are propped against it where he’d left them the night before and he grins at his past self’s forward thinking. The grin falters slightly when he realizes just how _many_ signs the group had made, and at the fact that he was the one who’d have to lug them all to the building. He doesn’t give himself more than a second to lament this fact, instead throwing his backpack over his shoulder and scooping the pile of poster-board into his arms.

For the first time since moving in Fitz is able to lock his apartment door without the use of WD-40 and he finds himself grinning as he begins his hurried descent down the five flights of stairs separating him from the exit. By some stroke of luck he makes it to the street-level in record time without dropping anything.

His luck seems to run out almost immediately though because in his haste to leave the apartment building, he doesn’t see the chestnut-haired woman until he is barreling into her.

The signs and posters go flying as Fitz himself stumbles forward. He expects to encounter the sharp sting of the sidewalk but instead feels himself collide with something far softer. He hears a sharp, “Oh,” and stills instantly at the distinctly English, and even more distinctly _feminine_ , voice that gasps into his ear.

Fitz maneuvers his arms so that they are on either side of the startled woman and uses what little upper body strength he has to push his weight off of her. He manages a rather pathetic push-up before his brain seems to connect with his eyes and he is able to fully take note of how absolutely beautiful the woman beneath him really is.

Her eyes are the exact shade of the Scotch whiskey that Skye likes to order for him whenever she’s in the mood to enforce certain stereotypes, and the faint freckles that dust her nose remind him of the now nameless girl he’d had a crush on in grade school. Fitz's gaze flits briefly to the woman’s lips and just as quickly returns to her eyes when he hears her say something.

“What was that?” He’s both surprised and unsurprised that he’d missed her statement. Surprised because his ears are a few scant inches away from her mouth, well within hearing range, yet completely unsurprised because his mental and motor functions tend to fail him when he’s within two feet of women as pretty as this one. Actually, he’s not sure he’s ever been within two feet of a woman this pretty.

“I asked if you planned to keep going.” _Definitely English then._

“Keep going where?” Now that his mind is coming back to him Fitz realizes that he actually _does_ need to keep going, though he’s not sure why a perfect stranger would ask him about it.

“Keep going as in that push-up got you halfway there...” He can feel his face stuck on it’s confused expression and tilts his head hoping that it will spurn her on and make her realize his need for bluntness. The movement seems to do the trick because she rolls her eyes and continues. “Would you please be so kind as to get off of me? I’m late for work. 

Fitz feels his eyes bulge and he knows he must look as comical as he feels because the woman lets out a soft laugh as she pushes at his chest with a warm hand. The touch snaps him out of the general stupor she’s left him in and he quickly pushes himself to a standing position, hastily reaching down to help up the still chuckling woman.

“I’m so sorry! I was in a rush and wasn’t paying any attention to where I was going. Should have looked up instead of keeping my eyes on my own two feet.” He’s a bit more forwardly helpful than he normally would be, foregoing pulling her up by the hand and instead reaching down to grasp her by the waist and lift her to her feet. He doesn’t miss the woman’s quick inhalation of breath and realizes that, as a complete stranger, he probably should have asked before essentially picking her up off the ground. “Sorry, sorry! I just… I was just trying to help.”

Once he’s certain she’s steady, Fitz hastily removes his hands, opting to shove them in his pockets for fear of doing something stupid… _again._ Her own hands, which had grasped his arms during lift-off, fall to her side momentarily before they begin gesticulate wildly in front of her as he opens his mouth to apologize again. “Stop, it’s _fine._ Apology accepted and appreciated.”

She gives him a friendly smile and tucks a wayward hair behind her ear with far more elegance than what such a mundane movement is worthy of. His eyes are torn, flitting between her grin and the blush spreading across her face. He wonders what she has to blush about before he realizes that he’s been staring at her, mouth agape, for far longer than what would normally be deemed appropriate. 

He looks down at his feet in an attempt to hide his own blush and registers the utter chaos that surrounds him. The various signs and printed information sheets litter the ground and he groans as he scoops down to pick the mess up. The groan intensifies as he catches sight of his watch and he mentally calculates how late he’s going to end up being after this literal run-in. 

He can’t help thinking that his tardiness may not be all that bad considering the reason for it. 

Fitz assumes that the woman had simply walked off after he’d made such an ass of himself, and is startled when his hand brushes against a much smaller one while reaching for the last pamphlet that is visible on the city sidewalk. He flinches back immediately as his head whips up in surprise and he once again finds himself lost in the varying shades of gold and caramel mingling in her eyes. 

She grins again as she stands up, holding out her hand to help him to his feet, and he notices the paper she’d collected tucked beneath her other arm. He gestures towards it and manages a stuttered, “Thank… Thank you... Umm…” His sentence dies on his lips as he realizes he doesn’t actually know what to call her.

“Jemma.” She pauses briefly to acknowledge his muttered, “Fitz,” before continuing. “And it’s not a problem. _Truly._ You seemed like you could use the help.” She deftly tucks her hair behind her ear again and he finds himself thinking that it’s a more interesting and enthralling sight than anything he’d glimpsed before. He makes to take the paper from her grasp and is slightly confused when she takes a step back out of his reach.

“I couldn’t help noticing the SciTech logo on your pamphlets. Are you headed in that direction?” He nods dumbly, still confused by her silent refusal to return his leaflets and slightly distracted by the fact that she’s speaking to him at all, and watches as she smiles again and begins to walk backwards. “That’s just another few blocks, need an extra pair of hands? I’m headed south as well and… Not to be insulting… But you seem to be the kind of person who’ll drop those poor signs another dozen times before actually reach your destination.”

He’s not even the slightest bit offended. Partially because the statement is completely true, but mostly because he’s not sure the woman in front of him could say anything that he wouldn’t agree with in pathetic awe.

“Yeah… Umm yeah. An extra pair of hands would do wonders right about now actually.” He smiles tentatively at _Jemma_ and watches as she turns around and begins to walk in the same direction he’d been headed. His own feet are far less cooperative and it takes her shooting a look over his shoulder and asking, “Well, are you coming?” for him to start moving.

Fitz scurries to catch up, slowing his pace once he is situated next to her and waits a few uncomfortable moments before speaking up once again. “Thanks again. I’m late enough as it is and I have a feeling that not being able to see through an armful of paper wouldn’t have done much help.”

Jemma laughs at this. “No I bet not. Poor sight could cause you to plow into an unsuspecting citizen on their way to work…” Fitz's face flushes red and he turns to apologize again when he catches her mischievous grin and the quick wink she shoots in his direction. He narrows his eyes at her, huffing his breath in false indignation before his façade cracks and he matches her smile with one of his own.

“So… What is it that you’re in such a hurry to get to? If my asking isn’t too forward …” She tacks on the last sentence quickly and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the impression that she is unfailingly polite.

“Oh well umm… I’d read an article last week about the GH325 project that SciTech is initiating…” He sees Jemma’s head flash in his direction, an indescribable eagerness in her expression, and he’s spurned on by her seeming interest in the topic, “…Which is absolutely _deplorable_ and a complete waste of funds if you ask me _.”_  

He swears he sees her stiffen, eagerness deflating into a look of placidity, but in an instant her smile is back in place and she motions for him to continue.

“Well they’re conducting experiments on innocent animals. Mice, rats, even harmless chimps! And all to research a mysterious drug that they have no business messing around with! GH325 isn't something that should see the light of day, yet SciTech is firing on all cylinders to experiment it. It’s disgusting!”

He can feel himself getting riled up and is suddenly even more appreciative that Jemma had taken it upon herself to carry some of his belongings, since his wild gesticulations would have been far more difficult with the additional load.

She makes a non-committal hum when he stops to take a breath and he turns to look at her. Her jaw is slightly clenched and he watches as she opens one of the pamphlets he’d made and begins to peruse it. Her eyes narrow slightly as they skim the words but otherwise she makes no physical reaction. He takes this as another sign that he should continue speaking, which he does so with gusto. 

“Let me tell you, it’s a load of soulless robots working at that place. They’re more concerned with having their names published on a byline in JAMA than they are with the possible consequences of their actions. It’s inhumane and unnecessary if you ask me.” They’re about a block away from SciTech at this point and he can see the small crowd gathered outside of the building. He spots Mack’s tall frame and internally grumbles about the lecture he’s sure to receive for being late.

The red DON’T WALK sign flashes at him tauntingly from across the street and he takes advantage of his misfortune by once again focusing on the woman next to him. There’s an odd expression on her face, a weird mix of what he thinks is sadness and determination, and he watches as she looks from the leaflets to the crowd of SHIELD members across the street. She turns to face him with a similarly odd glint in her eyes. “Surely you can’t truly believe that scientific progress is so abhorrent! The potential discoveries that the project could have are endless!”

He grins at her question and the challenging note in her voice. Her nose scrunches up as she stares defiantly up at him and he can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity to prove his point. “Scientific progress shouldn’t be reliant on abusing animals for the sake of investigating a highly unpredictable drug. Possible vaccines…”

Jemma mutters, “Anti-serums,” just loud enough for him to hear, but otherwise does nothing to stop his speech.

“Alright, possible _anti-serums_ shouldn’t be tested on defenseless animals that lowlife scientists deem less significant than _potentially_ helpful lab results.”

She rebuts his statement with one of her own and he in turn provides another counter argument. Fitz finds the back and forth interaction to be rather stimulating, he hasn’t debated with a worthy partner in _ages,_ and he doesn’t even realize they’d crossed the street and made it to where his fellow protestors have gathered until he bumps into her still frame once again. 

Jemma thrusts the pamphlets into his hands rather abruptly and he is taken aback by the sudden coolness that seems to surround her.

“Well it’s been lovely chatting with you Fitz, but I really must be going now. I have quite a lot of work to do today.” She points towards the building they’ve stopped in front of and he finds himself doing a double take.

SciTech. They’ve stopped outside of SciTech. 

“Work? This is… This is… _Oh_ … Oh no…” 

He thinks that gob-smacked may actually be an understatement for the look that is currently on his face. There’s a brief flare of anger as he puts two and two together but it pales in comparison to the embarrassment and slight disappointment he feels as he realizes who she is.

“You’re… You’re…”

“ _Doctor_  Jemma Simmons, lead research scientist heading the GH325 project you seem to know so much about. Though I suppose if you _really_ want, you can call me… what was it? Soulless Robot?” She pauses long enough to glance at the group of people calling his name and waving him over to the demonstration. There’s a flash of _something_ in her eyes before she returns her gaze to him and gives him a smile far less warm than the one he’d grown accustomed to during their short walk over. “Happy protesting _Fitz_.”

And with that, she leaves him standing in front of SciTech with his jaw on the floor and his foot in his mouth.


	2. Let the Protest Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The protest against SciTech begins and Fitz has another run-in with one of its insufferable employees.

Once he manages to snap himself out of his stupor, Fitz makes his way towards the other SHIELD members gathered outside of SciTech and dazedly begins distributing the signs and papers to whoever needs them. He notices Mack looking at him with furrowed brows while pointedly nodding towards the SciTech entrance that Jemma had walked through.

He shakes his head at the other man, clearly indicating his unwillingness to discuss the subject, and hopes that Mack takes the hint and leaves the questioning for another time. He sighs in relief when the other man just shrugs and turns towards the other protestors, using his booming voice and looming size to end the idle chitchat and gain their attention.

“All right guys, we all know why we’re here. SciTech researchers have resumed their study of the GH325 drug and, in addition to the possible dangers that may stem from the research of such an unpredictable substance, they’ve begun testing their findings on a variety of animals.” Mack’s voice is commanding and protesters and passersby alike are giving him their full attention.

Fitz may have organized this whole thing, using his own knowledge of SciTech and combining it with hours of research to create the perfect foundation for a rally of this size, but he lacks the authoritative presence that Mack does. He could never speak with such confidence in front of a crowd and he _certainly_ wouldn’t be able to get passing pedestrians to halt their movements and listen with rapt attention. 

“Our inside source,” Mack’s eyes briefly flick towards Fitz before he continues, “Has given us detailed information regarding the mice, rats, and primates that SciTech is currently experimenting on. Said animals are locked in cages day and night until they’re given an ID number and used to test the drugs and vaccines that the barbaric employees in that building are producing.”

Fitz’s eyes dance across the gathered crowd and he feels a surge of pride run through him as he notes the anger and raw passion that Mack’s words are invoking. “This isn’t our first rodeo. We know how difficult it is to make a change but we also know that change _is_ possible. With the right group of people and the proper motivation, we can make sure that those SciTech lowlifes hear our voices and take responsibility for their actions. 

The people in the crowd are now eagerly moving their heads with Mack’s words, leaving Fitz with the feeling that this protest will likely be one of the most significant things he’ll ever be a part of.

“Now, I recognize many of you. I see a lot of familiar faces standing in front of me, but for those of you who are new, I’ll make something very clear. Today isn’t a one-shot deal. This isn’t a one and done gathering. This is the first day of _many._ SHIELD will be meeting outside of SciTech every day for the foreseeable future until we feel as though true progress has been made.”

There are a few nervous murmurs at this, as to be expected, but for the most part the protestors seem to be nodding in understanding, aware of what a rally of this size entails.

“Now, that’s not to say I expect everyone in front of me to spend every moment of every day standing outside of the SciTech labs. I know you all have lives outside of SHIELD and my goal isn’t to take away from that. At the end of today we’ll pass out a shift-sheet. Sign up for a time that you’re willing to commit to and then all you need to do is hold up your end of the bargain. Show up when you say you will and we won’t have any issues. Sound good?”

Mack’s eyes sweep over the thirty or so people that are standing in front of him and Fitz knows that the other man is trying to get a sense of who’s in it for the long haul. Evidently he’s satisfied by his mental assessment because after a moment he claps his hands and bellows a, “Let’s do this,” that has everyone clapping in enthusiasm and taking their places in front of the lab building. 

-O-

As far as first days go, it’s one of the best that Fitz has experienced since joining shield four years ago. The morning crowd doesn’t dissipate and there are no deserters who leave for their scheduled lunch break and never return. All of the protesters remain passionate throughout the day and Fitz meanders through the crowd with a smile on his face as he hears all of the chants and facts that are being hurled at SciTech and the individuals passing by.

It doesn’t take long for the protestors to attract a crowd of onlookers and Fitz feels as though he might cry from happiness when a few people actually begin to ask questions and inquire into what it is exactly that SciTech is doing and why it’s so necessary for them to stop. The protestors themselves seem to quickly discover their own respective niches and the rally remains smooth and efficient throughout the day as the participating individuals begin to divide and conquer.

Those who are like Mack and Hunter, willing to work a crowd and serve as the actual voices of the cause hoist megaphones with pride and easily attract onlookers with their booming speeches and claims. Those who are more like him, preferring to be the fact-driven members of the group, hand out pamphlets to passing pedestrians and readily answer questions about the animal cruelty at SciTech as well as the terrors that may arise through further study of GH325.

By the time they finish for the day, Fitz’s blood is thrumming with adrenaline and he feels as though he’s one step closer to bringing SciTech’s lack of ethics to light. Mack gives him a thump on the back as Hunter high-fives him and the rest of the group begins to disperse. Everyone gives each other encouraging smiles and those who are signed up to return tomorrow leave with promises of another day of successful protesting. Fitz smiles as he bids everyone farewell and begins to methodically pack his bag with the leftover pamphlets and rolled up signs that are in good enough shape to reuse tomorrow. He’s grinning ear to ear as he does because, for the first time in awhile, he feels as though he’ll be able to use his knowledge and experience to accomplish something good.

Of course, this means that _just_ as he seems to reach a peak high, he sees the caramel-eyed woman exit SciTech and begin to head in his direction. Her eyes are focused on the mobile device in her hand so she doesn’t see him until he moves directly in front of her, blocking her path, and timidly lets out a small, “Hello.”

Her eyes move up instantly in surprise before narrowing when she realizes who it is that had gotten in her way. “Hello…”

  _Jemma_ looks rightfully suspicious and glances where his hands are still clutching the pamphlets in his backpack as though she’s worried he’ll pull out a container of fake blood and dump it on her head.

SHIELD isn’t like that though. There’s a literal booklet of rules and regulations meant to be followed and, while the organization is motivated to change the world for the better, it doesn’t feel the need to use such extremist methods to make it happen. In fact, if individual members take it upon _themselves_ to take such extreme methods, they are immediately removed as members and SHIELD completely disassociates with them. It’s part of the reason he’d joined joined in the first place.

Fitz had been weighing his options after losing his job a few years ago, desperate to join something that he felt was aiming for the betterment of the world and society, and he admired SHIELD for doing such things in a legal and respectful manner. So he signed himself up and four years later he’s running, albeit in a behind the scenes kind of way, his own protest against SciTech and standing in front of the beautiful woman who works there.

_The woman he’d unknowingly called a soulless robot. Christ._

Fitz takes a deep breath and sighs, opening his mouth but finding himself unable to say a word when _Jemma_ cuts him off before he can even begin.

“Let me guess, this is the part where you apologize for your awful behavior and claim that you didn’t mean it and…” 

It actually _was_ the part where he was going to apologize. He’d really liked her this morning and spent much of the day replaying their exchange and groaning under his breath as he realized what an ass he’d made of himself. She’d been very helpful and he’s still beating himself up over being so rude to her. So yes, he _was_ intending to tell her he was sorry for his words, but he gets so irritated with her assumption and underlying belief that he _should_ apologize, that Fitz decides to change tactics and in fact to the complete opposite.

“Bloody _hell_ no. I _did_ mean it. I think all of you lot are in the wrong. _This_ is the part where I ask how you could willingly be involved in something so sadistic!”

Her mouth drops open at this, eyes widening in astonishment, and he smirks at the image. _Bet you weren’t expecting that were you?_

“Sadistic? _Sadistic?_ Please explain to me how my desire to better the human race through scientific discovery is _sadistic_!” Her face reddens with each word and she steps closer to him so that he can once again see every shade of brown and gold that makes up her irises. He doesn’t allow himself to become entranced this time and instead decides to focus on her lips. On the words coming _out_ of her lips not… not _on_ her lips.

Which are pink and look _so_ soft and are currently closed in frustration.

“Bettering the human race? In what world is a drug _that_ unpredictable a good thing?” Fitz is sure that his own face is just as red, partly because he’s been standing outside in the sun all day but mostly because his exasperation with her is making his voice raise and the blood rush to his head.

She rolls her eyes at this and places her hands on her hips in a manner that makes him flashback to the scoldings his mother would give him as a child.

“You don’t even have a _clue_ about it. You just know that SciTech, like _every_ other scientific research facility in the world, does live-animal testing and have decided to latch on to the supposed instability of GH325 so that you have something to scare other people into listening to.”

“I don’t need to _try_ and scare people. You and your mystery drug will do that just fine on your own. All I’m interested in is drawing attention to the fact that SciTech is using an obscene amount of money and resources to experiment with a dangerous substance… and are using animal testing to do it.”

“You seem like a fairly intelligent person Fitz. We both know that, so long as research is being done, animals will be tested. There’s no alternative if we want to produce safe anti-serums that could potentially benefit the human race. And as for the GH325, how can we know it’s dangerous unless we _actually study it_?”

A part of him wants to point out just how intelligent he really is but knows that it’s neither the time nor the place for it. Looking at Jemma, he knows that he needs to pick his battles with this one. She’s not going to back down easily because she’s a woman of science and, though Fitz is as well, Jemma is more specifically a woman of _biochemistry_ science. He’s come across people like her before and knows that she likely relishes in guts and gore. She doesn’t see cute animals that are deserving of a life outside of a small cage in a research facility. No, all _she_ sees are experiments and test subjects, which he finds that much more irritating.

“And what right do you have to pick and choose who or what is expendable enough to test said drug?”

Jemma groans at this and gives Fitz the impression that she is incredibly close to making that _slightly_ adorable English accent shoot up a few decibels. “I _don’t._ This isn’t some dictatorship where I sit on a throne of microscopes and point at the animals I want to test. I’m an _employee._ This is a _job._ I don’t necessarily appreciate all of the sacrifices that science requires, but I _do_ appreciate the positive things that come from it.”

He stares at her contemplatively and understands that, no matter what he says, for Jemma Simmons the pros of science and her research will always outweigh the cons. “I guess I just understand how you can be so callous about it.” 

“Because, according to you, I’m a soulless robot. I don’t have to justify my actions because I stand by them. My loyalties aren’t with SciTech and they aren’t with little mice that have never lived life any differently, they’re with _science_. And if I’m as callous as you think I am, it’s because that’s what is required for a job that people like _you_ clearly aren’t cut out for.”

Fitz realizes that she doesn’t know anything about him or his history but her words still feel like a knife to the stomach. She’s right of course, he _isn’t_ cut out for the job considering it was one he’d been let go from so many years ago, but hearing yet another person tell him what he is and is not capable of only serves to fuel his anger. He doesn’t bother responding to her and instead turns around and stalks off in the direction of his apartment. 

His steps are sure and measured, not even faltering when he hears Jemma shout, “I do hope you have the proper permits for your protest. It’d be a shame if the cops were to disband it.” He keeps his pace steady and stomps down the street with a renewed determination to bring Jemma Simmons and SciTech _down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change of plans, just going to try to post a new chap every other day to keep things consistent!


	3. Roommates and Rantings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz tries to get his roommate to feel sorry for him and it backfires completely.

When Fitz returns home he makes sure to slam the door of his apartment behind him, both as a cathartic way of releasing his anger and an audible way of conveying to Skye the kind of day he’s had.

His roommate looks up with wide eyes as he stomps into their living room, tossing his backpack in the corner and bypassing her completely in favor of cutting into the kitchen and snagging a beer from the fridge. Once he’s removed the bottle cap far more aggressively than what was strictly necessary for such a task, Fitz returns to the living room and plops down on the couch next to Skye.

She’s experienced situations similar to this enough times before to know that it’s best to simply let him stew in silence until at least half of his beer is gone. After his seventh sip brings the edge of the liquid well below the peeling label, Skye finally shuts her laptop and shifts her body on the couch so that she is fully facing him.

“Do I even _want_ to know?” Skye’s vocal inflections have a rare mix of understanding pity and latent sarcasm that indicates two things. One: she realizes that Fitz has had a rough day and is likely not going to be in a great mood for the foreseeable future. And two: he’s equally likely going to act like an enormous baby about the entire thing and won’t realize it until he vents to her and understands that his life isn’t over and the situation is far less traumatic than he’s making it out to be.

He appreciates Skye’s ability to read him, especially in cases like this where he already _knows_ that he’s justifiably in a bad mood and is taking advantage of the fact by acting like a petulant child. He’s the same with her though so he doesn’t feel all that bad when he too turns into the couch, crossing his arms and leaning closer to Skye with a look of complete frustration.

“You would not _believe_ the day I’ve had.” Fitz tacks on a groan at the end of the statement and lets his head fall sideways against the back of the couch.

“Probably not but based on the attitude, I’m assuming it was a bad one. Protest didn’t go well?” Skye’s face shifts and becomes a bit more outwardly sympathetic as she takes in the rather pathetic sight of him pressed heavily against the couch and radiating tension.

Fitz has to shake his head at this because, though something _involving_ the protest was responsible for his sour mood, the event itself was more than successful. “Oh no, the protest was great! Had a really nice turnout, the week’s rotation schedules have been completely filled, and we even convinced a few passersby to read the pamphlets before they threw them away.”

Skye gives him a puzzled look at this because, as far as she knows, the only thing in his life that could cause such frustration and annoyance is the protest. And while the event itself isn’t what has him so irritated, her assumption is at least vaguely in the vicinity of what’s actually irking him. 

“Okaaaay… Then I’m not sure why I’m sitting with the ‘fed after midnight’ version of Fitz right now.”

Fitz rolls his eyes at her Gremlins reference because at this point it’s been made so many times that he’s slightly disappointed by the laziness of her barbs. She used to at least have a rotation of jabs to describe ‘Grumpy Fitz’ but apparently Skye no longer has the energy to use them.

“Because I met the most insufferable SciTech employee today who seems hell-bent on making my life as miserable as possible and ruining whatever headway the protest might have a chance of actually making in regards to getting rid of GH325 for good.”

Skye perks up at this, always one for a good bit of drama and gossip, and leans forward in rapt attention. “Oooh a saboteur… Tell me more and start from the beginning.”

Fitz grins at her enthusiasm and readily leans forward himself, eager to begin telling his roommate about the absolute nightmare that is Jemma Simmons. “Okay well, I was running late this morning…”

Skye groans at this and promptly falls back into the arm of the couch and throws her arm over her eyes in a rather impressive display of feigned dramatics. “Oh dear god, I’m bored already. Forget the beginning. Skip to the first part that might interest me.”

Fitz ignores her request and instead continues talking; resuming the sentence that he’d barely gotten the chance to begin. “…and I bumped into this rather stunning woman on the street…” 

Skye’s body is upright in an instant and her eyes bug out of her head in excitement. A grin works its way across her face and she begins to clap her hands in encouragement. “I’m interested, I’m interested!”

“…and it was just awful, so embarrassing. All of the pamphlets went flying and I practically assaulted her since I all but tackled her to the ground when we collided.”

Skye grins and clutches her hands to her chest. “A true romantic comedy meet-cute! Oh man I wish I’d seen it. That’s the stuff of dreams Fitz!”

“More like a nightmare.” He shakes his head slowly at her and tries to use only his voice and eyes to indicate the awfulness of the situation.

Skye just looks at him as though he’s told her that he was an alien in a past life. “Okay… well that was creepily ominous and entirely uninformative.”

“Will you just listen please?”

Skye holds her hands out in defense and then motions for him to continue speaking.

“Anyways, she noticed the SciTech logo on all of the signs and pamphlets and asked me if I needed a hand carrying everything since she was headed in that direction.”

“Stunning and sweet. A deadly combination.” Skye’s eyebrows are wiggling up and down now and it reminds him of the way that Jemma’s arched in consternation as he reprimanded her about the evils of SciTech. 

“Yes Skye, _incredibly_ deadly because, while walking to SciTech, she asked me why I was headed there. I proceeded to tell her about the protest, she pumped me for information like a police officer in an interrogation room, and then when we pulled up to SciTech…” Fitz pauses for dramatic effect and sighs when Skye breaks the silence immediately. 

“You… got the courage to ask her out?”

“…she informed me that she _works_ for SciTech.” Fitz watches Skye’s mouth lower as she processes his reveal and nods his head slowly at her to confirm the truth behind his words.

“Oh shut up! No way, there’s no way your luck is that bad.”

Skye is actually the only person other than himself that knows first hand how bad Fitz’s luck truly is. He realizes that _she_ realizes this though and knows that it’s not a subject that really needs to be brought up in order to emphasize the bad luck of this particular situation.

“It gets even worse.” Skye groans at this and, though she probably saw it coming, Fitz is sure that Skye had been hoping for his sake that the poor luck ended with learning that Jemma was actually _Doctor_ Simmons.

“Of course it does.”

“So I go about my day, protest the hell out of SciTech, and then, as I begin packing up to head home, who shows up? _She_ does.”

“Oh, no. Say it isn’t so. _She_ showed up.” Skye’s voice is sarcastic and Fitz thinks he might be losing her interest with the slowness of his story and generally overdramatic retelling. He decides to just barrel on and throw as much information at his roommate as he can before her eyes glaze over completely. 

“Yes she did. And she basically said that what I was doing was pointless, that the protest likely wouldn’t accomplish anything, and that she, SciTech, and research labs in general would continue testing the GH325 and experimenting on animals for the foreseeable future.” 

Skye grimaces at this, wincing slightly and patting his hand in sympathy. “Ouch, très harsh.”

“Yeah exactly. So this woman, whose nose does this weird scrunchy thing when she’s irritated, then has the _audacity_ to ask whether or not SHIELD even has the necessary permits to protest outside of SciTech. _Then_ she makes a less than subtle implication that the police will be called if we don’t.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Nose-scrunching? What? Okay wait, I’m confused. Are you upset because you _don’t_ like her or because you _do?”_ Skye tilts her head at him and raises her eyebrows speculatively.

Fitz meanwhile can do nothing other than gape at her question.

_Had she not listened to a word he’d said?!_

“Of _course_ I don’t like her! Bloody hell Skye keep up! Jemma’s a complete and utter menace with no morals and _zero_ sense of propriety! And she said I seemed _fairly_ intelligent! I have a genius level IQ Skye! _Fairly intelligent_ … the nerve.”

Skye is smiling at him now and he feels uncomfortable as the grin grows with each passing second and her eyes roam over him, taking him in. “Jemma?” 

Fitz pauses at this and lets his mind retrace their conversation until he realizes that he’d slipped up and revealed that his nameless foe was actually more foe than nameless. “Yeah, Jemma. That’s… that’s the name of the SciTech employee. You know, the one I just spent the past five minutes telling you about. The one who tries to use her caramel-colored doe eyes to lure you into a false sense of security before she strikes and you realize she’s actually a sadist that is hell-bent on making you miserable.” 

For some reason this statement causes Skye to burst out laughing and, in between her wheezing, she manages to choke out, “Oh my god. I knew it!”

Fitz is stunned by her reaction because he honestly has no idea what it is that she finds to be so funny. “What?!”

The high octave of his voice only makes Skye laugh harder and she practically collapses into the couch cushion as she clutches at her side. “You _do_ like her. That’s why you’re so upset that she only thinks you’re _fairly_ intelligent and _that’s_ why you’re so annoyed that she works for SciTech. You were crushing on her and you ended up realizing that you were _actually_ crushing on the alleged enemy!”

He stares at her aghast, completely mystified as to how she had listened to his story and proceeded to come up with such a preposterous notion. “I don’t _like_ Doctor Simmons, Skye, and I _certainly_ do not have a crush on her.”

Skye’s laughter dies down but she continues to chuckle softly as she levels him with a knowing look. “You’re telling me that at _no_ point in the day did you imagine what it might be like to _kiss_ ‘Doctor Simmons’ instead of bicker with her?”

Fitz is silent for the briefest of instances before Skye bursts out laughing again, having clearly caught his moment of hesitation and taking it to mean that he _had_ imagined doing something with Simmons other than arguing.

“All right _fine._ Maybe immediately after bumping into her I thought it might be nice to spend some time with her in a slightly more romantic situation, but then I quickly discovered that Simmons is merely _disguised_ as a beautiful English rose and is _actually_ Satan’s mistress.”

Skye’s laughing stops abruptly and her eyes bug out at him. “Wait, wait, wait… She’s _English?!_ As in _British?!_ As in she is a Brit who is from London? _”_

“Yeah… Well, yeah she’s British. But from the sound of her accent I’d say she’s from the Sheffield area of England, not Lon… Why are you laughing again?!”

Skye shakes her head wryly at him and looks at him as though he’s an utter moron. “You are so dense Fitz I sometimes truly can’t even believe it.”

“What on _earth_ are you going on about?”

She closes her eyes with a sigh before reopening them and taking a deep breath. Then she starts singing a rather atrocious tune that makes Fitz want to slam his head against the coffee table.

“You think she’s gorgeous… you want to kiiiiiiiiiiiiiss her…”

“Oh bloody hell.”

“…hug her and love her… Smooch her and _marry_ her…” 

“I’m leaving now. Goodbye Skye.” He stands from the couch, ignoring the kissy noises that Skye is now emitting, and makes his way towards his bedroom, not bothering to throw away the beer bottle and instead leaving it for Skye to take care of. He shuts his door with more force than necessary but it doesn’t do much to block out the sound of Skye’s laughter that seems to reverberate throughout the apartment. Fitz rolls his eyes at the girl’s antics and grabs his laptop before flopping onto his bed.

He pulls up his web browser and opens a new window to begin a Google search. He slowly types, _permits required for protests outside public lab facilities,_ into the search engine.

Just to be on the safe side.

 

-O-

 

Everyday for the rest of the week Fitz returns to the apartment, slamming the door behind him. The protest itself continues to attract a decent crowd, and SHIELD is consistently able to recruit new volunteers, but the thorn in his side that is Jemma Simmons continues to prick him day after day.

 On Friday he slams the door so hard that Skye and Trip jump in surprise from where they’re snuggled on the couch.

“Jeez Fitz!” Skye glares at him and Trip quirks a surprised eyebrow at him as their eyes follow him while he moves into the kitchen and grabs the cold pizza from last night. He yanks it out of the fridge and walks back into the living room, dropping the box on the coffee table before collapsing on the floor in irritation.

“That _insufferable_ woman made me miss lunch!” Fitz snatches a slice of pizza from the box and stares at it forlornly before shoving half of it into his mouth. He silently stews for a few moments as he chomps down on the food before muttering unintelligibly under his breath.

Trip gives him a bemused look but Skye just scoffs at him and rolls her eyes. “So that means you have to close the door hard enough to start a mini earthquake?”

Fitz chews quickly on another bite of the pizza and glares up at his friend in consternation. He swallows the pathetic excuse of a meal in order to properly enunciate the true horror to his friends. “It’s _Friday_ Skye. She made me miss lunch on _Friday._ ” 

Skye stares at him for a few moments before her expression changes to one of mirth. She laughs at the bitter expression on his face, choking it down when his glare deepens, and gives him a marginally sympathetic look. “Oh… You missed _Friday_ lunch.” He can hear the mock commiseration in her voice and petulantly crosses his arms at her words. 

Trip stares between them in confusion, which makes Fitz harrumph in irritation and Skye giggle into his chest. She takes a breath after her laughter subsides and turns to face her boyfriend. “The tea shop across from your place has this Friday lunch special that’s basically just a bunch of British food. Fitz has been making me go with him for _ages_ because he claims it’s the only place that serves food that is up to par with Great Britain _._ ”

Fitz grumbles under his breath as he moves to grab another slice of pizza. “It’s the best food in this damn city and it’s only served on _Fridays during lunch._ And that damn woman made me miss it.”

“Fitz, what on earth could this Doctor Simmons have done to force you to miss lunch? Did she tie you to a telephone pole? Did she shut down the restaurant? How could she _possibly_ have such an influence over your lunch schedule?” Skye looks at him questioningly and raises her eyebrows when he remains silent and keeps his gaze fixed on the pizza box.

Skye begins to grin when she sees the redness of Fitz’s ears and pushes herself off of the couch to sit on the floor across from him and lean forward on the coffee table. “Fitz…”

He huffs at Skye’s piercing stare and looks up at her in exasperation. He grits his teeth as he reflects back on the day and exhales in irritation as he begins to speak. “I ran into her on the way over to SciTech. Not _literally_ ran into her. I mean, I _saw_ her, and I _thought_ she hadn’t seen me...”

“Let’s speed things along Fitz.” Skye gestures hastily at him and he gives her a look until she stops and backs down to let him continue at his own pace.

“Okay well I was walking a few feet behind her and overheard her talking on the phone about how a new shipment of the GH325 drugs and testing animals were expected to arrive at SciTech between noon and four.” Skye begins to smile slowly and Fitz has a feeling that she knows exactly where the story is heading. 

“So naturally I told the others about what I’d heard and Mack went all gung-ho about how nobody could leave the protest because he wanted everyone around when the shipment came. Only…”

“The shipment never came.” Skye grins knowingly at him and Fitz begins to nod his head vehemently.

“Exactly! _Nothing_ came. We were all stuck on that street corner for the entire day, which we usually are anyways, but this time there were _no_ lunch breaks!” He grabs another slice of pizza, shooting a chuckling Trip a glare before turning back to Skye. “And _then_ at the end of the day when everyone’s packing up to leave, shooting daggers at me for my wrong information mind you, she walks up to me with that _stupid_ smile and has the _audacity_ to ask _if I was waiting for someone_.”

Skye grins across from him and he looks at her in annoyance, turning to Trip for support only to be met with the sight of the other man covering his own grin with his hand. “Stop smiling! Don’t you get it?! She set me up! She…” 

“Saw you awkwardly following her on the way to work and decided to have some fun by making up the story about the delivery because she knew you’d blab about it and wait around so you’d be there to protest the shipment.” Skye arches her eyebrow with a sly grin and Fitz’s mouth drops open in surprise.

“How did…”

“Fitz, that is a _textbook_ trick. Literally the _only_ person on the planet who would actually fall for that is you.” Skye is grinning at him and Fitz can only gawp at her in disgruntlement. “But…” 

Skye reaches for the last slice before beaming at him like the Cheshire cat. “I don’t know this girl but… I think I kind of like her.”

Fitz’s mouth drops open and he stares at her in disbelief. “What?!” 

“Yeah! She seems fun. I love a good trick and that one was harmless enough that I don’t really feel all that bad for you. 

“Skye… she is the _enemy._ Don’t… don’t start _liking_ her!”

“I’ll stop liking her when you stop crushing on her.”

He pauses at this, mouth open as he rewinds their conversation and tries to process what it is that Skye has just said. He blinks quickly for a few moments before shaking his head and yelping at her. “Wh… what?!”

Skye levels him with an infuriatingly patronizing look that he doesn’t really understand. “Fitz, for the past five days you’ve stomped in here whining about this _Doctor Simmons…_ ”

“Yes exactly! _Complaining_ about how awf…”

Skye cuts him off immediately with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How she’s so terrible and is ruining the world blah, blah, blah. But, methinks thou doth protest too much because in _between_ said complaining you spend an awfully large amount of time just talking about _her._ Like in a general, non-evil, sense.”

“What the _bloody hell,_ are you going on about?” Fitz is looking at Skye incredulously as though she’s just told him that Jar Jar Binks is her favorite Star Wars character. She looks at him for a moment before leaning forward and counting on her fingers.

“On Tuesday you spent an hour, an _hour,_ discussing how you know how irritated you’re making her based on the angle of eyebrows. On Wednesday you were scoffing at the fact that she was wearing a _yellow_ cardigan when her skin tone is much more suited to blue. _Yesterday_ you came stomping in telling me about how, during your daily argument, Simmons flipped her hair at you before walking away. And in between discussing how _rude_ it was for her to do that, you mentioned that you got a whiff of her shampoo, which had a distinctly floral scent, but you couldn’t decipher whether or not it had roots of lavender or gardenias.”

Fitz gives her a look that is the equivalent of yelling _duh_ in her face as he tries to figure out how any of what she’s just said is relevant. “I don’t see how my astute powers of observation have led you to believe that I actually _like_ Simmons.”

Skye scoffs in disbelief as she looks over her shoulder at Trip. He raises his hands defensively as he shakes his head at her. “Don’t look at me! I’m not getting involved with this one.”

“Why not?!” Skye turns towards the man on the couch in displeasure. 

Trip just smiles warmly down at her and pats her head with his hand. “Because I don’t want to pick sides. I’m totally neutral when it comes to your and Fitz’s roommate fights.”

Skye looks at him skeptically as she arches her eyebrow in disbelief. “ _Really?_ Totally neutral? Not willing to pick sides? May I remind you that only _one_ of the roommates you’ve mentioned is willing to sleep with you?”

Trip bursts into laughter at this before staring at his girlfriend with a teasing expression. “C’mon girl. Don’t even _try_ to play that card. Just because you _do_ sleep with me, doesn’t mean Fitzy wouldn’t be _willing_ to. Right Fitz?” Trip grins over at him and Fitz is about to blanche at the statement until he sees that Skye seems to be more traumatized by the thought than him. She shivers once and scrunches her nose in distaste at the mental image.

He grins as he realizes what Trip’s strategy is and leans against the coffee table to get closer to Skye. “Yeah totally, I’d be willing to sleep with Trip in a second if it meant he’d help me make you see reason.”

Fitz grins at the girl, who gags at his words and glares at him in annoyance before hoisting herself up from the ground and heading towards the kitchen. “The thought of you and my boyfriend is so nauseating to me that I can’t even continue this conversation without another beer.”

Trip extends his hand behind his girlfriend’s back and Fitz immediately reaches forward to give the other man a high-five. It’s silent for a few moments as the two of them listen to Skye rummaging through the fridge before Trip leans forward on the couch and looks conspiratorially at Fitz. 

“Listen man, I meant what I said when I told Skye I didn’t plan on taking sides. You say you don’t like the Doc, Skye says you do. It doesn’t really matter to me either way. But it clearly _does_ matter to you. So here’s a bit of advice. Figure out which of you is right and then do something about it.” 

Fitz looks at Trip quizzically and opens his mouth to speak but stops when Trip motions with his hand to let him continue. “And by _that_ I mean, if you _are_ crushing on Doc, make a move. And if _you_ aren’t, _still make a move._ ”

Fitz stares at Trip in confusion. “I don’t… I don’t really follow.”

“She messed with you today, which mean’s it’s your turn to mess with her. Give the Doc a taste of her own medicine.” With this Trip leans back with a small nod and shifts his gaze to Skye who’s returning from the kitchen with three beers in hand.

She pauses for a moment when she catches sight of them, eying them suspiciously as she notes Trip’s easy grin and Fitz’s concentrated daze. After a few long moments she tentatively sits down and turns to Trip warily. “You’re being weird. Are you guys still talking about sleeping with each other?”

Trip throws his arm around Skye’s shoulders, giving her a chaste kiss to the cheek before grabbing one of the beers from her hands. “Nope. I’ve told Fitz that I’m happily in a monogamous relationship with the most beautiful girl on the planet.”

Skye rolls her eyes at this but Fitz can see the slight blush that blooms across her cheeks as she wraps her arms around Trip’s middle with a smile. Fitz grabs his own beer and sips it in silence, ignoring the film that the other two have put on, and contemplates Trip’s words.

_Give the Doc a taste of her own medicine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Miss. Congeniality for being on TV when I was writing this chapter.


	4. The Game's Afoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz decides to take Trip's advice but greatly underestimates his opponent.

On Monday morning Fitz wakes up with a grin as he excitedly thinks about his little plan concerning one Jemma Simmons.

He’d taken the weekend to think about Trip’s advice, pondering what he should do with it, and had eventually come up with a clever ruse to get the scientist back for her earlier prank. She’d made him miss _Friday lunch_ and Fitz eagerly gets dressed as he thinks about how today he’ll return the favor.

While walking towards SciTech Fitz spots Jemma a few feet in front of him and quickens his pace so that he can catch up with her. “Simmons.”

She glances up at him with a startled expression before her eyes narrow slightly in confusion and she turns to face forward. “Fitz.”

“It’s a bit warm today isn’t it?” He speaks as casually as he can and has to hold back a grin when Jemma cautiously turn to him.

“Yes… I suppose it is slightly warm.” Her voice is tentative as she answers him and he turns to her in feigned astonishment.

“Slightly?! Man, I feel like I’m on _fire._ ” Fitz does his best to emphasize the last word without making it seem _too_ suspicious. He does it for his own amusement but doesn’t want to reveal anything that might clue Jemma into his little scheme.

She gives him another perplexed look as she responds. “Okay… I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Oh don’t be, I like it. It reminds me of when I was younger and used to run through the sprinklers for _hours_ whenever it was hot enough. My mum would get _so_ annoyed with me, said I was ruining my clothes and that if I kept at it I’d turn into a prune.” Fitz lets out a genuine laugh at this and smiles at the memory of his childhood.

He turns to glance at Jemma and stumbles for a moment at the soft look she’s giving him. She blushes a bit when he catches her staring before hoisting her purse further up her shoulder and quickly turning to face forward. “That… That actually sounds quite nice. My parents never let me do anything like that. I… I always just had to stay inside when it became too hot. My mother didn’t want me to get sunburned.”

He’s not sure what to say to this so he just hums noncommittally and they make the rest of the journey to SciTech in silence. When they reach the SHIELD tent he steps away from her and calls out, “Hope the heat doesn’t cause any trouble,” as he walks away.

He protests eagerly for the entire morning before glancing at his watch to note the time. _Lunchtime._ Fitz grins as he tells Mack he’s taking his break and runs over to the side of the SciTech building before casting a cursory glance around to make sure he’s alone. When he realizes that he is, Fitz climbs up the fire escape until he reaches the metal box next to the third floor fire exit that _he_ had helped install years ago. He pops the panel open and grins at the sight of the numerous wires. Fitz looks through them for a moment before catching sight of the one he wants and carefully yanks it from where it’s plugged in.

Fitz holds his breath for a moment as he peers in through the small window near the doorway and grins when he sees the interior sprinklers go off. He quickly make his way back down the metal stairs and runs to the front of the building so that he can get a better view of the parade of people who are now making their way out of SciTech. He knows from past experience that the building’s sprinkler system is wired throughout SciTech and lasts a _minimum_ of ten minutes in the event of a fire. He _also_ knows that SciTech is required to evacuate all employees should said sprinklers go off.

Fitz happily munches on the sandwich he’d packed as sits on the rim of the fountain and scans the crowd for Jemma. He laughs the moment he catches sight of her, clothes and hair completely drenched with an irritated look on her face. He _knows_ that she can’t hear him from where he’s sitting but the moment he begins chuckling, Jemma’s head raises and her eyes lock on his. He gives her a jovial wave and watches as she begins to stomp over to him.

“Hullo Simmons! You’re looking quite… rejuvenated.” He grins cheekily at her and his smile widens as her eyes narrow at him.

“You…You…” Jemma glares at him and doesn’t seem like she’ll be able to get a sentence out anytime soon so he cuts her off before she can.

“Man… I’ve heard that it can take up to an hour or two for the SciTech crew to wet-vac the building after the sprinklers go off. I sure hope you don’t _miss lunch._ ” He smirks at her as he emphasizes the last few words and her eyes widen in response.

“You’re _unbelievable!”_

“Believe it Simmons. Consider this my gift to you. You got to experience the wonders of a quality sprinkler _without_ having to go outside to risk getting sunburned. It’s a win-win.”

He takes an enormous bite out of his sandwich, chewing vigorously and making noises that make the basic Italian sub seem roughly ten times more delicious than it actually is. Jemma’s eyes narrow again and he hops of the fountain, shooting her another grin, and walks away, leaving a soaking wet Simmons in his wake.

-O-

Tuesday afternoon has Fitz locked in a heated argument with two police officers that are trying to claim that his protest permit is invalid.

They’d turned up a little after twelve, asking to speak with whoever was in charge before moving towards Fitz when all of the other protestors pointed in his direction. He’d tentatively asked them if there was a problem, furtively glancing around in the hopes that Mack -who was _actually_ in charge- had returned from _his_ break, and was quickly informed that the police had received an anonymous complaint that there was a protest taking place without the necessary paperwork.

Fitz had immediately denied the claim and quickly opened his wallet to give the officers his permit. They’d taken it from him without question glanced at it for a few moments before turning to him and telling him that it was invalid.

This had been an hour ago and Fitz has been arguing with them ever since. “The permit is _valid!_ Just look at it again! I did all the proper paperwork and when said paperwork was _accepted_ I was mailed a protest permit. It says _right here_ that protest is legal!”

“Sir… please don’t raise your voice, we’re just doing our job. SciTech is technically private property…”

“But it’s _not!_ The building is privately owned, but the street isn’t and is therefore _public…”_

“Is there a problem gentlemen?”

Fitz groans at the sound of the English accent and rolls his eyes when both officers straighten and glance appreciatively over his shoulder.

“No ma’am. We were just having a chat with this young man.”

_Please… What are they, a **year** older than him? Tops?_

“Oh, what about? I actually work at SciTech so perhaps I can help?” Jemma moves forward to stand beside him and innocently between the two officers. She’s done something with her make-up today that makes her eyes look like pools of gold in the sunlight and Fitz internally groans as he watches the other men become entranced by them.

“That would be much appreciated Miss…” One of the officers gives Jemma a flirty grin that causes Fitz to clench his fists at his sides and the woman beside him to titter.

“Simmons. Doctor Simmons.”

“A doctor! Brains and beauty then.” Officer _Peters_ gives Jemma a wink at this and Fitz has to do everything he can to not physically gag at the other man’s display. Jemma on the other hand gives a bashful laugh and shoots a coquettish smile in the officer’s direction.

“How flattering! Thank you. Anyways, what seems to be the problem with Mister…” Jemma turns to face him with a raised eyebrow. Fitz takes in her false confusion and grits his teeth as he spits out, “Fitz.”

“Fitz. Hmmm…. Interesting name.” Jemma gives him a smirk before turning back to the officers and adjusting her features into a pleasant smile. “What seems to the problem with Mister _Fitz_?”

“Well _Doctor_ Simmons,” The officer winks again, “We received a call earlier about a potentially illegal protest that was taking place. The caller seemed to think that man in charge would be present between noon and two and suggested that we might come down to check things out while he was around.”

“You don’t say.” Jemma’s eyes are focused on the officers but Fitz’s are focused on her as all of the pieces begin to click together. His jaw drops open at the realization and he _swears_ he sees Jemma’s grin widen at his expression as she continues listening in rapt attention to the other men.

“Yes. So we decided to come take a look and meet with Mr. Fitz here.” The officer continues speaking but is interrupted once again by the English woman.

“Oh! Is it you who’s in charge of this?” Jemma turns to face Fitz in feigned surprise and he feels his jaw clench at her question. His eyes narrow at her and he nods his head, knowing full well that speaking will result in him saying a few choice words that likely shouldn’t be said in the presence of law enforcement.

She grins smugly at him before turning back to the policemen. “So, what’s the issue? Did he not have the proper paperwork?”

“Oh no, he has paperwork, but the issue surrounding whether or not the area is considered private property is where the problem lies.”

Jemma nods seriously at this. “Yes I could see how that might be an issue. Well, to my knowledge, the building itself is in fact private property…” Fitz opens his mouth to argue but Jemma raises her voice slightly to cut him off. “… _but_ none of the street space around it is. This… SHIELD or whatever it’s called, is _technically_ allowed to protest at their current location. They’re not a concern unless they attempt to actually protest in or on the building itself.”

Jemma smiles sweetly at the officers who seem utterly transfixed by her charm. They turn to each other and silently communicate before turning back to her and shrugging. “Well if _you_ say so… I guess it must be true.” Officer Peters gives Jemma another smile as his eyes roam over her body. She tenses slightly at the appraising look and Fitz moves forward a bit in front of her to block the other man’s view.

_Just so he can get the other man’s attention. There’s no other reason for the movement._

“Does this mean we’re done here?” Fitz glares at the two men who raise their eyebrows simultaneously and instantly lose the leering smiles.

Peters steps forward as he speaks lowly. “Sure, Mister Fitz. We’re done here. Though… I think we’ll stick around for a bit to make sure there won’t be any other complaints.”

Fitz moves to step closer but stops when he feels Jemma draw an X on his back with her finger. It feels like a flame torch and Fitz stiffens immediately as the small bit of contact seems to paralyze him.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary Officer Peters. You two have been quite diligent but I’m _sure_ that your presence is required for more significant things than a silly SHIELD protest.” Jemma gives the officers a truly captivating smile and doesn’t let it falter as she glances between them.

Both men chuckle at her statement and nod. “Yes that’s likely true. Well _Doctor Simmons_ it was a pleasure meeting you. Here’s my card, it has my personal number written on my back. Feel free to call if any issues _do_ arise.” Peters reaches for Jemma’s hand and places his card in it before giving her one last wink, and Fitz one last glare, and walking down the block with his partner.

Jemma waits until they turn the corner before letting her smile drop and ripping up the small piece of paper. “Gross.”

Fitz watches with narrowed eyes as she walks to the nearest bin and disposes of the shredded paper. When she turns around and begins heading towards SciTech Fitz calls out after her in a mix of disbelief and anger. “You called the _police_?!”

Jemma turns around in shock. “Why, I did no such thing! From what _I_ heard, the call was anonymous.”

“Oh is that so? Then what have you been doing out of SciTech for the past hour?” He glares at her challengingly and clenches his jaw again when she laughs.

Jemma meets his challenging look with one of her own and raises a single eyebrow. “ _Eating_ _lunch._ ”

Fitz’s fists shut tightly at his sides as he takes in her smug grin and watches as she turns and walks away with a bounce to her step. He glances down at his watch and notes that his scheduled break is over.

“God dammit.”

-O- 

On Wednesday Fitz convinces Darcy, his SHIELD protégé, to help him out with his pranking. Following Jemma’s little trick the day before, Fitz had looked through the SciTech information page to find the number to Jemma’s work office. After regaling Darcy with an abbreviated version of the past few days, and convincing her that this’ll be another way of one-upping SciTech, Fitz pulls the young girl across the street to sit on the bench overlooking SciTech.

“Dude… Are you sure this is kosher? Isn’t this like… low-grade identity theft? Can I get arrested for this?” Darcy gives him a skeptical look and her voice is laced with nerves.

Fitz chuckles at the other girl’s anxiousness and affectionately pats her on the shoulder. “I’ve already told you, it’ll come up as a blocked number. Skye taught me how to make the calls untraceable so you’re good to go.”

“But…” Fitz cuts Darcy off before she psyches herself out and hastily attempts to reassure her. “Honest Darce, you have nothing to worry about. Plus… It’s _my_ phone we’re using.”

She nods thoughtfully at this and extends her arm, opening her hand out to him. “True. Okay give me the number.”

He passes her the slip of paper that he’d written Jemma’s work number on and glances at his watch to make sure that it’s the right time. It’s 12:27 meaning that it’s the _perfect_ time. He looks up at Darcy and gives her an eager thumbs up that causes her to sigh and dial the number.

She pauses for a few minutes before quickly straightening and putting on a professional voice that leaves Fitz impressed. “Hello, is this Doctor Simmons?”

“Yes hello, my name is umm… Jane Foster. I work with for _the Hub_ … Umm… the science journal…” Darcy pauses again as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line. Her eyes bug out slightly and she gives Fitz a slightly panicked look. “Oh you’ve heard of it? How nice! Well… we’ve heard of you too!”

Fitz nods encouragingly, swatting her hand away as she moves to slap him on the shoulder, and points down to the notebook sitting between them. Darcy glances at it and her shoulders lose some of their tension as she reads what he’d written. “Yes! Well we’re contemplating incorporating a new segment into the magazine to shed a spotlight on people who are doing especially interesting things in the field of science.”

Darcy pauses again and nods in acquiescence to whatever Simmons is saying over the phone. “Yes I agree, it _is_ a nice feature to add. Well it’s actually why I’m calling. As I said, I’ve heard of your work and was hoping you might be able to spare some time to chat with me about how you became involved in the field.”

A smile blooms across Darcy’s face and she looks eagerly towards Fitz. “Well I was actually hoping you might be able to do it _now._ I’m working on a pretty tight deadline and don’t really have any other free time before the article is due…”

She pauses again and her smile grows as she gives Fitz a wink and a thumbs up. “Oh really? Oh that would be so great! Thanks so much, I hope I’m not interrupting anything. No? Oh perfect. Let’s just get into it then!”

Fitz spends the next hour munching on his lunch and silently laughing as Darcy asks the questions that he’d written down for her. The younger girl is more than intelligent, but she’s a bit of a wildcard and Fitz decided that it would better if he didn’t let her go off book.

There are a few moments in which he wishes that _he_ were the one hearing Jemma’s answers (they’d opted not to turn on the speaker phone due to the obvious noises of the city street) because many of them leave Darcy gaping in astonishment and responding with variations of things like, “No way… Are you serious?! That’s amazing! You were practically a baby!”

_What the hell did **that** mean?  
_

When their lunch break is almost over, Fitz motions for Darcy to wrap it up and she nods at him, raising her pointer finger as she continues listening to Jemma’s answer. After another minute she shakes her head in disbelief. “That is seriously insane. Wow. I can’t even believe that you’re a real person.”

Fitz rolls his eyes at this and shoots her a look. She rolls her eyes right back at him before nodding sarcastically and focusing back on the phone. “Well I don’t want to keep you any longer. Thank you _so_ much for answering my questions Doctor Simm… Oh, okay _Jemma._ Well again, thank you. I really appreciate it and I’ve really enjoyed learning more about you.” Fitz shoots her another look and Darcy just shrugs in response. “I’ll be in touch when I have a bit more information about if and when the article will be published. Yes. Yes I will. All right I’ll speak to you soon, again, thank so much for your time.”

Darcy disconnects the call and then stares at his phone in awe. “Fitz… That woman is _amazing._ You would not _believe_ the things she’s accomplished! And she’s your age! She’s not even some old fogey who’s spent a million decades trying to get stuff done. She’s _incredible._ And her voice! God I would kill for an accent like tha… What?!”

He’s glaring at her now because he’s really not in the mood to listen to _another_ person become so enamored with Jemma Simmons. He fishes a five-dollar bill from his pocket and hands it to her, “Go get yourself another hot dog.”

Darcy narrows her eyes at him for a moment before shrugging and snatching the money from his outstretched hand. Fitz waits until she’s out of earshot before he clicks on the most recent outgoing number in his phone. He only has to wait a few moments for Jemma to answer. “Hello?”

“Howdy Simmons.”

He waits for her to realize whom it is that’s called her and is pleased that he doesn’t actually have to wait long because a fraction of a second later he hears the confused English accent that Darcy, and _only_ Darcy, seems so fond of. “Fitz?”

“Yup! I was just sitting here _eating my lunch_ when I realized that my assistant Jane forgot to mention that that _Hub_ article likely won’t be published anytime soon.”

The line is silent for a few moments before…

“You son of a bi…”

Fitz ends the call with a grin before Jemma can finish her sentence.

-O-

On Thursday afternoon Fitz hesitantly waits for Jemma’s retaliation. He protests vigorously in the morning but as 12:30 grows closer he begins to feel somewhat paranoid. He glances around for any sign of Officer Peters, worried that Jemma might have just used her flirty voice on him to get the man to come down and torment Fitz again.

When 12:45 rolls around he figures that Jemma’s decided not to retaliate and smirks as he internally cheers at his defeat over her. He moves towards where his lunch is sitting under the SHIELD tent when he feels a tug at his shirt. He turns around in surprise and is met with the sight of a small girl who is looking curiously at him.

“Oh… umm… hello there. Can I help you?” Fitz glances around for any adult that seems to be frantically looking for a lost child but doesn’t see anyone particularly concerned. He looks back down at the girl when she begins to speak.

“Mister? Can I ask you a question about that?” The small girl points to where some of the other SHIELD protestors are holding up various signs.

“Uh… yeah sure. Ask away.”

“Is that stuff true?” Her eyes are still focused on the signs and he looks at them too in an attempt to figure out what it is that she’s asking. “Umm… do you think you can be a bit more specific?”

The small girl turns back to him and he feels himself melt a bit under the gaze of her big blue eyes. “That stuff about the animals. Is it true?”

Fitz thinks that telling kids about dying animals is as bad a sin as revealing that Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy aren’t real so he warily looks at the girl as he contemplates how to respond. He finally decides that honesty is the best policy and just goes for it. “Umm… Yes.”

“Oh.” Her lip wobbles for a moment and Fitz immediately tenses at the sight, sighing in relief when instead of crying, the little girl just looks back to him and asks another question. “What kinds of animals?”

“Mostly just mice and rats. A few monkeys too.”

“Puppies?”

Fitz thinks about the SciTech scum that run the company and can easily imagine any one of them kicking a small dog and laughing at the sight. He looks at the building and scoffs as he mutters, “Yeah probably, if anyone did it’d be those guys at SciTech” under his breath.

When he looks back at the little girl his eyes bug out because tears are now streaming down her face and her tiny little nose is sniffling every few seconds.

Fitz instantly panics and leans down so that he’s at her level. “Oh… Oh no. Please don’t cry! Please, please, don’t cry!”

Her sobs only increase as she looks up at him in confusion. “Wh…Why are they killing puppies…” _  
_

_Shit._

“Oh I didn’t… No I didn’t mean that! I shouldn’t have said that. I just meant that the people who work at SciTech experiment on mice and rats so… So if anyone _were_ to do that to puppies… it would be them.”

“But… But my daddy works at SciTech.”

_Shit, shit, shit._

“Oh… Well I’m sure…”

“Maggie?” A woman’s voice calls out from behind him and Fitz quickly stands and turns towards the sound. A woman is staring at him in horror, eyes flitting between him and the crying girl, and quickly moves forward to scoop up the girl in her arms. “Maggie, honey, what’s wrong sweetheart? Why are you crying?”

The small girl sniffles into her mother’s shoulder and then slowly extracts herself from the woman’s arms. She wipes her nose across her arm as she looks at her mother in misery and then extends her little arm in Fitz’s direction. “He… He told me that daddy kills puppies!”

Fitz’s eyes bug out as the woman in front of him whips around to face him. “He told you _what_?!”

Fitz quickly steps back and hastily raises his hands in defense. “Nonono… I didn’t… that’s not what I said!”

The woman glares at him for a moment before moving back towards her daughter and softly asking, “Sweetheart, what _exactly_ did this man say to you?” The girl sniffles again and rubs her fists in her eyes as she gasps to get a breath between her sobs. “He… He said that the people in there k… kill animals…”

The mother raises her eyebrow at him and Fitz begins to feel sick. “Okay I _did_ say that but I _never…”_ He’s quickly cut off by the small girl’s quavering voice. “And then when I asked him what _kind_ of animals he said mice, and rats, and some kinds of monkeys…”

Fitz flinches at each word that leaves the girl’s mouth and chastises his past self for actually thinking that _honesty is the best policy._ “Yeah… I said that too but…”

He’s cut off again by a loud wail as the girl launches herself at her mother and sobs into the woman’s stomach. “And… and then I asked, ‘What about puppies,’ and… he… he said _probably!”  
_

The mother’s mouth drops open in shock and she looks at Fitz as though he’s the spawn of Satan. He hastens to rectify the situation and get the girl to stop crying and her mother to stop glaring at him. “But not _definitely!_ I only know about the mice and the rats! I was being _sarcastic_ when I said probably!”

He winces at the words the moment they leave his mouth because blaming this situation of the girl’s inability to pick up on sarcasm is really the _last_ route he should have gone. Apparently the woman agrees because she straightens up and glowers at him. “She’s a seven year old girl! Do you think she can pick up on your sarcasm?! If you tell her that puppies are being killed, _she’ll believe you!”  
_

Fitz quickly kneels before the young girl and desperately tries to get her to listen to him. “Okay, okay I’m _really_ sorry. Maggie? Hey, listen, I didn’t mean what I said about the puppy thing. I’m sure that there isn’t one single puppy in SciTech right now.”

For some reason the mother groans at this.

“Wh… what?” The little girl begins blubbering again and turns towards her mother with betrayal in her eyes. “You… you said we were meeting daddy because he had a puppy… You said he got me a puppy and he’s gonna surprise me with it at work!”

The mother sighs in exhaustion and gently strokes her daughter’s hair. “He _did_ get you a puppy. Jeez man, what is your _problem?!”_ She looks up at him in irritation. _  
_

His eyes widen again and he himself is on the verge of tears from the stress that this tiny little girl has made him feel. “How was I supposed to know that there actually _is_ a puppy in there!” Fitz leans back down towards the small girl and pleads with her to stop crying. “I’m sorry Maggie! Honest… You’re apparently getting a nice little puppy and… and I’m sure it’ll be so cute and will jump all over you and give you kisses and will protect you from bullies and will just be generally wonderful to have! It’ll be like… like a permanent best friend!”

Maggie sniffles at this and pulls away from her mother to look at him. “Really?”

Fitz sighs in relief and quickly nods his head at the small girl. “Really. Really, really. And I’m really sorry for saying all that stuff before. Is… Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Oh that’s really not nec…” Maggie cuts her mother off almost immediately as she turns to him with no trace of her earlier tears. “Could you help me pick out a collar for my puppy?”

Fitz blinks rapidly at the small girl, eyes flitting over to the mother who’s just shrugging, and shakes his head to make sure he’s heard her correctly. “I… what?”

The small girl smiles tentatively up at him. “I’ve never had a puppy before. Can you help me pick out a collar? The pet store is right over there…” She points across the street and his eyes stare at it in uncertainty.

“Umm… I’m not sure… that’s…”

His words falter as he looks down at the young girl who’s staring up at him with her big eyes and looking at him with such a sweet expression and…

_That’s_ how he ends up spending forty-five minutes in a pet store trying to speed up the process of choosing between a sparkly purple collar and a pink zebra one. The group of three finally leaves the store with both, Fitz footing the bill to make up for the whole crying incident, and make their way back towards SciTech.

Maggie is chattering away at him and Fitz is just nodding dazedly not processing her words until she says something that immediately catches his attention. “Miss Jemma is gonna _love_ this!”

Fitz stops walking immediately and looks between the smiling girl and her smirking mother. “I’m sorry… _Who now? Who_ is going to love this?”

“My friend Jemma! She works at SciTech and lets me do experiments with her!”

“Jem… Jemma Simmons?”

“Yeah! I wanna be just like her when I grow up! But I _also_ wanna be on TV like Hannah Montana. Jemma said that I couldn’t do that unless I practice so she gave me an assignment.”

Fitz’s mouth drops open at this as he stares down at what he had _thought_ was an adorable, albeit slightly traumatized, little girl. She’s giving him a toothless smile and he slowly starts to realize that he’s been played.

“Did I do good mom?” Maggie turns up to the woman who nods and laughs at the young girl. “You did great sweetheart. The tears were a nice touch. Hannah Montana better watch out!” She grabs her daughter’s hand and walks towards SciTech as Maggie yells, “Bye Fitz! Thanks for the doggie collars,” over her shoulder.

Fitz is left in a stunned silence as he waves robotically at the girl and watches the pair waltz through the doors of SciTech. After a few moments he looks dejectedly at his watch and shuffles over to the SHIELD tent in dismay to go relieve Hunter and let the other man enjoy his lunch break.

An hour later he sees a flash of blonde hair and Maggie is barreling towards him, dressed in a lab coat and goggles. “Fitz! Fitz!” She’s breathless by the time she reaches him and he has to plaster on a smile despite his irritation. “Jemma says hi! She wanted me to give this to you!” She pushes a folded up piece of paper in his hands before waving enthusiastically and bounding away to rejoin her mother where she’s waiting by the fountain.

He grits his teeth as he opens the sheet of paper and immediately crumples it after he reads what Jemma had written.

_Sorry to hear you missed lunch. Hope you at least had time to pick up a dog treat while at the pet store._

-O-

Fitz is eagerly walking towards SciTech Friday morning when he stops short at the sight of Jemma leaning casually against the crosswalk. He slows his pace as he walks towards her and she grins at the sight. When he’s within earshot, she stands straight and her grin widens. “Do your worst Fitz. Nothing you say or do is going to change the fact that my preliminary research on the GH325 drug was deemed more than satisfactory and I’ve been given the go ahead by SciTech to submit my grant to the NIH.”

Fitz stops at the sound of this, losing all interest in today’s prank as he processes Jemma’s smug words. “You what?”

“Mmmhmm. You heard me. So go ahead. Throw red paint on me, steal my notebook, do whatever it is that you were planning to do because it doesn’t matter to me. At the end of the day, you’re standing on the street protesting something that’s well on its way to receiving increased funding and national recognition.” She smirks at him happily and he feels a flame consume him.

“I’m glad to see that your lack of concern for appropriate lab practices and animal rights has worked out for you. I suppose you’re just another example of good things happening to bad people.”

Jemma rolls her eyes at this and sighs in exasperation. “ _Oh Fitz._ That’s a bit melodramatic don’t you think?”

“Hardly. And you don’t have to worry about me doing anything to you today. The fact that you’ve submitted a grant just means that I haven’t been doing my job.” She moves to open her mouth, no doubt with a snarky response, so he raises his voice and continues talking. “I’m going to protest the hell out of you today and when SciTech is eventually brought down, that’ll be my real entertainment.”

With that Fitz turns and stomps off, heading towards SHIELD ready to kick some SciTech ass.

Jemma Simmons is a small guppy in the SciTech ocean, and it’s time for him to start fishing for the sharks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many, MANY, thanks for those of you who are reading/commenting/kudosing etc. It means a lot and I'm really excited/appreciative of the positive response to this sucker. Hopefully the stuff I churn out will continue to meet your expectations!
> 
> Chapter 5 (AKA 'Tea For Two') should hopefully be up the day after tomorrow! Thanks again for reading!


	5. Tea For Two

Fitz is still annoyed by his earlier exchange with Jemma by the time his lunch break rolls around and is relieved when he checks his watch to see that it’s finally 12:25. He passes his sign to Hunter and pats the other man on the back as he tells him that he’s going on break. The other man nods his head and waves him away so Fitz doesn’t hesitate to begin the walk towards his favorite café. 

He doesn’t take his usual route, instead choosing to weave his way through the city blocks and take advantage of the blue sky and warm sunshine. He keeps his head down as he follows the relatively familiar route and watches as his worn Chucks skate their way across the sidewalk, dodging pieces of gum and cigarette butts. He becomes completely lost in his own mind and relishes in the brief moment he has to himself. No SHIELD, no SciTech, and no Jemma Simmons. 

Of course the peaceful bubble doesn’t stay intact for long. In fact, when he arrives at his destination it shatters completely. 

“You have _got_ to be kidding me…” 

Fitz looks up at the now familiar English voice and groans when he sees Jemma standing a few feet away from him, the entrance to TeaTime sandwiched equidistant between them.

“Oh bloody hell, of _course_ you would be here. Can’t you just give me one moment of peace?!” He steps closer to her as he speaks. 

“Give _you_ a moment of peace? Who’s the one that spends every hour of the day outside my place of work holding up signs and shouting at the top of their lungs?!” She steps closer to him. 

“This is so typical. You ruin the sanctity of science, you ruin the lives of innocent animals, and now you’re trying to ruin my lunch too!” Their faces are only inches apart at this point and Fitz can see every freckle on Jemma’s porcelain face. 

“Oh _right._ You’ve caught me Fitz, my sole goal in life is to ruin yours. Why don’t you take a look in the mirror sometime? I mean, really, what the hell is your problem Fitz?” The look Jemma gives him sets him off once more and he quickly raises his voice and stands at his full height so that he can loom over her.

“My problem is people like you, who come to places like this and ruin the sanctity of the ‘Clotted Cream and Crumpets’ special. With your… your carefully selected clothes and ‘ironically’ adorable sweaters. A right hipster who’s just coming here to say you’ve been.” It’s a rather pathetic argument, Fitz knows it, but so does Jemma and she doesn’t hesitate to call him out on it. 

“Oh _bloody hell._ You’ve got to hear how ridiculous that claim is because, in case you haven’t noticed, I _too_ am British Fitz. I come here because it reminds me of home, not because it meets all of the requirements for an ironically cute hipster’s paradise. I love this place.” 

Fitz rolls his eyes at this because, though he is well aware that Jemma Simmons is likely the last person that could _ever_ be described as a hipster, he still doesn’t believe that her presence at _his_ favorite shop is a mere coincidence. “Oh _sure._ If you love it so much, how come I’ve never seen you here before? Is it because you’ve decided to follow me around and blabber on about all of your precious scientific research? Give it a rest will you?” 

“ _Excuse_ me? I come here every Friday at 12:30 on the dot and not _once_ have I seen you. How do I know that it isn’t _you_ who’s decided to follow _me_ around just so you can prattle on about the supposed inhumanity of my life’s work?”

Fitz scoffs at her in indignation and is about to open his mouth to retort when he realizes that this actually _isn’t_ when he usually comes around for C-cubed Friday. He usually waits around until Skye has her lunch break from TechWorld at two before coming to enjoy the British delicacies served at TeaTime. He’s only here _now_ because it was the break that had been scheduled with his protest shift. 

Jemma seems to note his hesitation and smirks at the victory. This of course only serves to annoy Fitz even more so he brushes past her and walks into the cozy shop, not bothering to hold the door for the woman behind him.

Fitz is a bit shocked by the crowd of people packed into the small tearoom. The two o’clock crowd tends to be far smaller and he usually misses the lunchtime rush of hipsters that seem to flock the shop. He hears the bell tinkle above the door and doesn’t have to turn around to know that it’s Jemma. Instead he lets his eyes flit across the room in the hopes of finding a place to sit. There isn’t a free chair let alone a free table and he feels a slight ping of disappointment at the thought of not being able to sit and have his weekly tea and crumpets. 

He spots Marta, the homely owner of his little fortress of solitude, and nods pleasantly at her as she waves in his direction and begins to move towards where he is waiting at the door. It’s not until she moves past him with open arms that he realizes that perhaps the wave wasn’t actually directed towards him. 

Fitz turns around and his mouth drops when he sees the older woman engulf Jemma in a big hug. “Jemma sweetheart! It’s so good to see you again! I tried that recipe you gave me last week and the customers absolutely _loved_ it!” She’s beaming at the younger girl as though she’s the sun and moon all rolled into one, admittedly pretty, package. Fitz grits his teeth at the exchange. 

“Oh good I’m so glad! The moment I saw it in the box of my gran’s old things I _knew_ I had to pass it along to the only person skilled enough to actually make it.”

Fitz rolls his eyes at Jemma’s words because _nobody_ would actually do such a thing.

“Oh Jemma you utter sweetheart, don’t tell Natasha but you’re my favorite. Nobody else that comes in here is quite as special as you.” She gives the younger woman a wink that causes Jemma to release one of her melodic laughs. He is momentarily distracted by the sound and decides to speak up just so he doesn’t have to hear it anymore. 

“Bloody hell Marta, what am I, chopped liver?”

The woman turns to face him with surprise as though she’s just realizing that he’s here. “Fitz! You’re a bit early aren’t you dear?”

He ignores the way that Jemma tilts her head at him and smiles smugly behind Marta’s back and instead shrugs at the older woman with a mumbled, “New work schedule.” Jemma scoffs and rolls her eyes at this and he _swears_ he hears her sarcastically mutter, “ _Work,”_ under her breath but Fitz ignores her and instead gives Martha an affronted look. “Don’t go distracting me with talk of time tables! I thought you said _I_ was your favorite!”

“Now Fitz, don’t get so worked up. Jemma is my favorite when she gives me delightful recipes. _You’re_ my favorite when you agree to accept scones as payment for fixing all of my appliances and making sure they’re kept up and running.” Jemma gives him a look at this and Fitz feels his face flush a bit at the curiosity he sees lingering in her eyes. He ignores it in favor of narrowing his eyes at the older woman. 

“Oh yeah, and what about Natasha?” 

Marta scoffs at this and swats him on the arm with a small chuckle. “Oh Mishka, you know Natasha is never my favorite.”

This pulls a small smile from him and he gives up any pretense of being genuinely upset with the older woman when she steps forward and gives him a hug that is as equally fierce as the one she’d given Jemma moments ago. When she steps back she turns towards Jemma before her eyes flicker back to him in a look of dawning realization. 

“Oh, oh, oh! My two favorite people are here _together!_ Oh how exciting! Oh you two are absolute darlings, I’m so glad that you two have found each other.”

Jemma stares at him in shock at the older woman’s words and he knows that he likely looks just as alarmed. 

“Oh no, no, no…” 

“We’re not…” 

“There’s no _way…”_

“I would _never…”_

They continue talking over each other but Marta’s own voice speaks above theirs and she takes no notice of their sputtered words. 

“…just _knew_ you two would get along if you ever met. But Nat’s always saying I’m too smothery so I didn’t want to stick my nose in it. But look, oh you’ve found each other anyway! Fate is a wonderful thing is it not?” 

At this point Fitz and Jemma are just hastily shaking their heads in the hope that the movement will catch Marta’s gaze, which is currently scanning the room, and get the woman to realize that they are most definitely _not_ here together. 

“Oh dear… we’re all booked up… No empty space… Hmm… Oh it’s just Billy at the corner table! The dolt’s been there for hours nursing the same cup of tea. Hold on a moment while I go kick him out so my favorite young couple can have his table.” She gives them a wink at this and smiles with true happiness. 

Jemma looks like she’s about to open her mouth in protest but Fitz _really_ hates change and wants his standard Friday lunch, so he quickly wraps his arm around her shoulder, ignoring the way she tenses beneath him, and shoots Marta a beaming smile.

“Only if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. It’s our first _official_ date you see, and we were really hoping to start this budding relationship over Marta’s famous tea and crumpets, right Jemma?” He turns to look at the woman beside him and is met with the sight of the fakest smile he’s ever seen. _She’s gonna blow it._

He tugs her closer to him and she wraps an arm around his waist, sharply pinching his side as she turns back to Marta with a _marginally_ more believable grin. “A date. Yes, it is that. A date is what we’re on and your food is what we’d hoped to have. To eat. We’d like to eat your food.” 

Fitz almost smacks his face at how ridiculous she sounds and worries that Marta will see through Jemma’s awkward speech but his worry vanishes almost immediately as the older woman claps her hands in excitement and steps forward to place a hand on each of their cheeks.

“Anything for my favorites.” With that she turns and scuttles across the room towards the corner table and promptly begins gesticulating wildly at the stunned man sitting there. 

Once Marta is far enough away, Jemma doesn’t hesitate to step out of his grasp with a roll of her shoulders and a look of disgust. “What the bloody hell was _that?_ First date? Budding relationship? As if.” 

Fitz rolls his eyes at her and ignores the small, _miniscule_ really, sting of hurt that comes from how ridiculous she seems to find the notion of dating him to be. “I wanted my clotted cream and crumpets, and she wanted her ‘two favorites’ to eat together. The way I see it, it’s a win-win. Minus the lose that is having to spend my lunch break with _you,_ Miss, ‘a date is what we are on.’ What the hell was that? It’s like you’ve never spoken to a human being before. Too much time with the lab rats?” 

He sees the annoyance cross her face and knows that she’s about to retort but Marta is waving at them from across the room so he doesn’t bother to give Jemma time to react. He waves back at the older woman, poking Jemma in the side and nodding in the direction of the recently vacated table.

“C’mon _sweetheart._ Let’s eat.” 

She crosses her arms and stalks off towards the table in the corner and Fitz follows closely behind. He pulls out her chair for her out of habit and she gives him a brief look of shock at the action before she narrows her eyes, likely assuming that it was just another part of the ruse he’s putting on for Marta. 

It wasn’t. 

He’d been taught by his mother at an early age the proper etiquette for dining with a woman and, just because the woman he’s currently dining with is _Jemma,_ doesn’t mean he’s going to let all of his teachings fly out the window.

Marta beams at his gesture and pats him twice on the face before telling them not to worry, she knows _exactly_ what they’ll be having. The woman scurries away before he can even sit down in his own chair and pretend that she actually _doesn’t_ know what he’ll be having (she does). It’s not really worth it for Fitz to call Marta back just so he can pretend to look at a menu, so he just plops down in the seat across from Jemma and does his best not to look at her. 

He lasts about five seconds before his eyes flit over to where _she_ is actively trying not to look at _him_. 

_All right, well if that’s how it’s going to be._

Fitz moves his hands to the table and leans forward as he begins to blatantly stare at Jemma. As always she’s an admirable opponent because all she does is shift her head slightly and focus on reading the specials board that, like him, she probably already has memorized. He smiles at this because he’s come to realize that he quite likes irritating Jemma Simmons and proceeds to move his elbows onto the table and rest his chin atop his hands. 

He thinks he sees her jaw clench and knows that she’s close to breaking so he opens his eyes as wide as he can and continues to stare unblinkingly. It only takes a few moments for her to crack and he grins at his victory as she does. 

“Oh my god, _what?_ What do you _want_ from me?” Jemma’s face is leaning over the table now and once again he can see every detail in HD. This isn’t his first rodeo though so he leans back against his seat before he gets too lost in trying to note every detail between her forehead and chin. 

“We’re on a _date_ Simmons. Don’t you think Marta’s going to find it odd that we’re neither speaking nor looking at each other?” He’s not sure why he’s actually _encouraging_ her to have a conversation with him. Fitz ignores the small part of him, the part that had bumped into her that first morning and became somewhat smitten, that is hinting that he might be genuinely interested in keeping her talking, and instead focuses on the much larger part that wants to keep _annoying_ her. 

“Actually, no. Marta shouldn’t find it odd because, again, this. Is not. A date. This is you being unable to go five minutes without driving me crazy.” He’s a bit impressed because Jemma manages to say the entire thing through clenched teeth and a plastic smile. Apparently she’s better at playing the part when nobody’s actually around to witness it. 

“Oh _come on_ Simmons. Are you really upset that I managed to get us a table during the lunch rush simply by batting my eyes and standing a little closer to you?” Fitz quirks an eyebrow at her and grins smugly. 

“Oh _please_ Fitz it would have taken even less for _me_ to get a table. And _I_ would have done it in a way that wouldn’t leave me stuck with _you_ for company.” Jemma leans back in her seat and blanches at him. 

The words and the irritated expression only serve to fuel Fitz’s fire and he leans forward cockily. “You know what I think? I think you’re just upset that this isn’t a _real_ date. I think you’ve had the hots for me since…” 

Jemma scoffs at him in disbelief and angrily leans forward, face growing red, as she speaks derisively. “ _I_ have the hots for _you?_ Which of us was the one that decided to skip bases one and two and head straight for below the waist action in the middle of the sidewalk. Was that your cell phone Fitz, or were you just happy to see me?” 

He stares at her in shock for a moment before he’s bursting out laughing at the jab. He can appreciate a good joke no matter whom it’s delivered by and _that_ was funny, albeit marginally embarrassing. Actually, _quite_ embarrassing, which is why Fitz is sure to keep his laugh hearty so that his flaming face can be blamed on the chuckle. 

Jemma seems to be rather surprised by his reaction because her mouth is slightly open and she looks a bit flustered, as though she’s not sure how to approach this chortling Fitz. Finally she just settles on a quick smile, barely a quirk of the lips, but it’s the first genuine one he’s seen today, which makes him inexplicably happy for some reason. His laughter dies down and he tilts his head to study her.

“You’re actually kind of funny. What the hell are you doing at a place like SciTech anyways? I probably shouldn’t have told _you_ my emotionless robot employee theory since you work there and all… but I stand by it regardless.” Fitz pauses for another moment to look at her before continuing. “SciTech employees can’t think or feel. Which again begs the question: what is someone with at least a moderate sense of humor doing at a place like that?”

Jemma’s brows furrow as he continues speaking and when he finally finishes she just sits and stares at him contemplatively. It’s a bit unnerving and he feels as though this is some sort of payback for the staring he’d been doing a few moments ago. She looks as though she’s trying to puzzle him out and remains silent until Marta comes up to their table with a tray of tea and delicious looking pastries. “Sweets for my sweets.” 

Jemma tears her eyes from him to look up and smile at the older woman. “Marta, _thank you_. I’m not sure what Fitz and I have done to warrant such an amazing spread but it looks _wonderful.”_ She turns back to him with raised eyebrows that raise even further when she sees that he’s already munching on one of the small blueberry scones. Jemma closes her eyes briefly in exasperation and then shoots him a glare before not at all subtly tilting her head towards Marta. 

Fitz chews for another moment before swallowing the pastry, turning to Marta with light in his eyes and a grin on his face. He nods enthusiastically and gives her two thumbs up which, though clearly not a proper thanks in Jemma’s eyes, is more than enough for the older woman. She tussles his hair with a smile of delight, “Just be sure to leave some for your drazhayshaya polovina, Mishka.” 

He nods at the first part, gives her a confused look at the middle part, and then smiles at the nickname tacked onto the end. Marta gives Jemma a wink and a smile before she turns and leaves them to their spread. 

Fitz reaches for the small teapot and doesn’t hesitate to fill both his and Jemma’s cups. Again, the action is habitual and so ingrained within him that he’d likely do it even if he had taken the time to stop and think about it. He grabs the little saucer of milk and begins to pour it in his cup before he moves to pour some into hers as well. She makes no move to stop him so he just continues on and doctors her drink the same way he did his own. The sugar is a bit trickier. He doles an unhealthy amount into his little porcelain cup but sees Jemma's hand cover her own cup and places the small spoon back in the sugar container. 

It's not until he pushes her teacup towards her that he realizes Jemma had been doctoring the scones and crumpets with a variety of jams and creams. She lifts her tea to her mouth with one hand as she uses the other to push the tray of snacks towards him and he has a scone halfway to his mouth before he processes the ease at which they just put their little lunch together.

They hadn't spoken a single word during the exchange and yet, here they are sitting in surprisingly companionable silence, drinking perfectly doctored tea and eating equally perfect baked goods. Fitz is a bit thrown by the wave of comfort that washes over him and blinks quickly at the thought that he could get used to having such exchanges with the woman across from him. 

He gets annoyed at himself for thinking such things and decides that the best way to get rid of such thoughts is to rile Jemma up again so their bickering can commence. "So Simmons, you never did answer my question. Why SciTech?" 

She shoots him a glare over the rim of her teacup as though she knows exactly what it is that he's trying to do. "I had just completed a three-year research study at another facility that had required some of SciTech's assistance and had established a decent rapport with the head of operations in the tech division." 

"John Garrett." He scowls as the name crosses his lips and suddenly everything about SciTech's push for researching the GH325 is becoming somewhat clearer. 

"Yes... How did...?" Jemma gives him a confused look before rolling her eyes and continuing. "Oh right, of course. I'm sure you've researched all of the SciTech employees so you know exactly whose offices you should stand outside of and wave your little signs at." 

Fitz neither confirms nor denies the assumption and instead lets Jemma use his silence to draw her own conclusions. Apparently she decides that she's right on the money because she just rolls her eyes again and continues with her story. 

"Anyways, yes I'd had some brief contact with Garrett while working on that other project I mentioned. He expressed interest in my findings and then inquired as to whether or not I would be interested in taking over the science division at SciTech. And despite what you think, SciTech really is one of the best research facilities in the country. I couldn't pass up the opportunity, so I didn't." 

Jemma’s not wrong. Working at SciTech is an extraordinary opportunity in its own right, heading an entire division is something that most people in the field could only  _dream_  of. "And why is it you decided to look into the GH325? Surely as head of this branch of the science division you could have chosen any number of projects." 

She gives him a speculative look at this, likely wondering when his tone had shifted from being sarcastic to genuinely curious. His face must indicate his legitimate interest in her words because after a moment she resumes talking. 

"True... Honestly it wasn't initially my first choice. I guess someone else had done some tentative research and decided not to pursue it any further but Garrett was keen to find out if the GH325 could potentially have any real-world applications. I decided to do a small study and my findings were so intriguing that I opted to make the GH325 drug the focus of my research. That's it. That's the boring story that you seem to think makes me a sadistic killer."

"No, it's the sadistic killing you do that makes me think you're a sadistic killer, not the story." Fitz gives her a wry smile at this and quickly takes a bite of scone closest to him. Her face turns a bit red at this and he can almost hear her mentally counting to ten in her head in an attempt to remain calm. 

"Medical research requires testing. SciTech takes proper care of all of the animals on the premises..."

"Until you murder them..."

"...and all of the tests are done in the most humane way possible..." 

"...which isn't humane at all considering, again, the animals are being killed..." 

"...and the potential benefits that could stem from said testing are insurmountable..."

"...and likely kept in cages that don't suit their needs..." 

"...and it would _actually_ be inhumane to conduct tests on _humans_..."

"...how would you like to be kept in a cell? Probably wouldn't be all that enjoyable for you, you..."

"...so in the grand scheme of things I think sacrificing a few lab rats in order to ensure a brighter future for the world is rather admirable."

"...complete and utter sub-par scientist slash selfish  _bitch_."

He regrets the statement immediately and opens his mouth to apologize when Jemma promptly stands and throws her, thankfully lukewarm, tea into his face. He gapes up at her from where she is standing above him and is met with blazing eyes and a reddening face.

“Screw you Fitz.”

Jemma grabs her bag from where it’s hanging across her chair and storms away from the table and out of the café. 

Fitz turns to face Marta, who is staring at him from behind the counter in shock, and lifts his hands as though he has no idea what had caused Jemma’s behavior. He stands up from his seat, not bothering to wipe at the tea on his shirt, and throws a twenty on the table. When he walks towards the entrance of the shop and opens the door he turns to Marta, who is standing with her hands on her hips, and simply shrugs.

“I guess we won’t be having a second date.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Google (which is NEVER wrong, right?) the enunciation of 'drazhayshaya polovina' loosely translates to 'Better Half' in English. If you're Russian and the above sentence was completely incorrect, then I'm sorry for likely having just slightly butchered your language. Again, hold Google accountable for that one and if you REALLY want to blame me, I'm willing to accept 14%.
> 
> Much thanks as always for reading, hopefully this story isn't too boring for you yet. Rest assured that there is much fluff, maybe a lil bow chicka wow wow (if I have the courage to post), angst, and more angst to come. This sucker is gonna be a roller coaster.
> 
> Chapter 5: 'Pretty Dumb For a Genius,' should be posted the day after tomorrow, and if we're really lucky, Jake Gyllenhaal might make an appearance.


	6. Pretty Dumb For A Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz gets a verbal lashing from his roommate and decides to do a bit more digging on one Jemma Simmons.

“You called her a  _what?”_ Skye’s shout hits a decibel that Fitz didn’t think was possible for the human voice to reach. The audible punch to his eardrums, combined with the physical punch that Skye lands on his torso, makes him think that  _maybe_ he might not have handled lunch with Jemma as well as he could have.

“Fitz, what the actual hell? You don’t call a girl that! _Especially_ not a girl that you see every day in a pseudo-professional setting who, as far as I can tell, has yet to be the one to instigate _any_ of your arguments!” Skye smacks him every few words and, though the blows do sting slightly, it’s her words that actually seem to get through to him. 

Because, now that Fitz thinks about it, Skye is totally right. Jemma hasn’t actually done anything to start an argument or disagreement. Sure, she’d retaliate with equally sharp words or pranks, but for the most part it’s _he_ who has instigated each of the quarrels they’d gotten into since that first day in front of SciTech. All of Jemma’s interactions with him had begun with her on the defensive and she’d only begun partaking in the sparring _after_ he’d already taken the first shot. Fitz’s mouth drops open at the realization because, though he’d already felt badly for his earlier behavior with Jemma, he now feels absolutely terrible. 

“You need to apologize the next time you see her.” Skye is looking at him more seriously than he can every remember seeing her and Fitz nods his head at her command. “Yeah…” 

Skye smacks him again at the tone of his voice. “I’m serious Fitz, that’s not a suggestion it’s an order. You _need_ to apologize.”

Fitz wants to tell her that his one word agreement wasn’t said in noncommittal manner, just in the tone of someone who was lost in thought about the best way to actually _go about_ said necessary apology, but knows that it’s best to just pick his battles where Skye is concerned. So he instead turns towards her and nods his head vigorously, putting as much sincerity as he can muster into his verbal response. “Yeah, I really do.” 

Skye takes a sip from the beer bottle she’d been cradling throughout their conversation and raises an eyebrow at him reproachfully. “Yeah you _really_ do.” 

Fitz looks at her in slight exasperation because now she’s just repeating his own words back at him in a much harsher tone. “Yes I _know_ Skye. I just said as much.” 

She scoffs at this and levels him with one of her patent glares. “No _I_ said as much. All you did was agree with me and use that oversized brain of yours to finally acknowledge that you messed up.” 

At this point Fitz is somewhat irritated and snaps at Skye so that she knows it. “Yes, yes, I acknowledge it. Happy? I acknowledge that I’ve _once again_ screwed things up with a woman so insufferable that I don’t even know _why_ I feel so bad about it.” 

Skye smiles smugly at him and resumes sipping at her beer. He’s slightly discomforted by the sight and becomes even more worried when her grin widens as she speaks to him. “I know why you feel bad.” 

Fitz narrows his eyes at her. How could she know why he feels bad if he himself doesn’t? He doesn’t really want to give Skye the satisfaction of luring him in with her vague words but his curiosity has been piqued so he takes the bait. “Oh yeah?” 

“Mmmhmm.” 

Her smug smile doesn’t falter so he tries to act as nonchalant as possible despite desperately wanting to know what is it she’s so sure she knows. “Care to enlighten me?” 

Skye’s smile widens at this and she looks at him with mischief in her eyes. “Sure but you won’t like it.” 

“Shoot.” 

She takes a deep breath and leans forward as she faux-whispers conspiratorially in his direction. “You feel bad, _Fitz,_ because despite the fact that you’ll deny it until you’re blue in the face, you actually _like_ Jemma.” 

He opens his mouth in protest but can’t even get a single word out before Skye is slapping her hand over his mouth and raising her voice. “Don’t even think about it! You wanted me to tell you why you feel bad, so that’s what I’m doing. I’ve said it before, and now I’m saying it again. You can’t _stand_ that Jemma works for SciTech because you are crushing on her so hard and you’re acting like a total dick because you don’t want her to notice. You’re trying to convince both her and yourself that you don’t like her because you don’t want to have to deal with what it might mean if you _do_.” 

Skye pauses her speech long enough to down the rest of her drink and stand to head into their kitchen. Fitz knows what she’s doing and appreciates the fact that she’s giving him time to process her words before being expected to respond with some of his own. 

Fitz doesn’t want to believe that even a fraction of what Skye had said could be accurate but he can’t help thinking back to his first interaction with Jemma, before he knew what she did for a living. The cliché butterflies had been instantaneous and sometimes he finds himself remembering how bright her smile had been as he’d stuttered nervously at her in embarrassment. 

Fitz stares contemplatively at his own beer bottle and ruminates over the possible truth behind Skye’s words. He feels as though he has two separate brains and personalities that are fighting for dominance in his body and, truthfully, he’s not entirely sure which one he hopes comes out victorious. One part of him wants to spend as much time with Jemma as possible and the other part wants to completely destroy her and SciTech. He realizes that she’s more of a pawn to the organization than anything else but he can’t let himself fully accept her as someone who isn’t doing something that he so strongly disapproves of. 

Skye returns and plops back down on the couch, handing him another beer and plucking the empty bottle from his hands to place on the table. 

“Well Fitz?” 

He turns to look at her and just shrugs his shoulders in defeat. He has no idea how to approach this situation and Skye’s words only served to make him more confused about the whole thing. 

Skye looks at him sympathetically and pats him on the back before picking up the remote and turning on the television. Fitz leans back into the couch, staring at the TV without actually seeing anything. They make it about halfway through an old Jake Gyllenhaal movie before Fitz gives up on it and stands from the couch, giving Skye a tired smile and heading for his bedroom to fall into a restless sleep.

 

-O-

 

The next morning Fitz is just as confused as he was the night before and decides to distract himself by making his way over to the SHIELD offices to do some more research on SciTech and its current employees, specifically _one_ employee. 

He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that the building is still locked as he arrives, meaning he’ll be able to have some peace and quiet while surfing the web. He doesn’t really want any prying eyes looking over his shoulder to see why he’s delving even further into the background of _one_ SciTech employee. He’s not sure it’d be believable to say that he’s reading all of Jemma’s published works in order to better understand how to approach the SciTech protest. 

Fitz sits at one of the desks for _hours_ reading Jemma’s papers and each one he reads leaves him that much more in awe of her intelligence and scientific contributions. He suddenly understands why Darcy had seemed so impressed while on the phone with Jemma because _holy hell._ Much of the papers were published in her early twenties but a few were dated before her 19 th birthday. He thinks he’s misread the publication dates on a few but, as he researches further, Fitz finds himself stunned by the fact that Jemma had gotten both of her PhDs before turning eighteen. _She was like him._

Fitz leans back in his chair at the realization and he finds himself even more interested in learning as much as he can about Jemma Simmons. _Was she lonely as a kid? Was she bored in every class she’d ever taken? Did people treat her differently?_  

The thoughts run through his mind quickly and he realizes that he now wants to know everything he can about _Jemma_ not about Doctor Simmons. Said realization terrifies him because it’s exactly what Skye had alluded to when they’d spoken last night… and the day before… and the day before. It’s what she’d been trying to hammer into his brain since that first day and Fitz groans at the small voice in his head that warns him that his roommate may have actually been on to something. 

He lets out a long sigh of frustration as he runs his hand across his face and, when he opens his eyes and glances around the room he’s sitting in, he feels something begin to tighten in his chest. The SHIELD logo and mottos cover the walls, interspersed with whiteboards completely filled with the issues at SciTech that require attention. He’s already letting Jemma distract him from the fact that she works for the enemy and Fitz isn’t sure he can be cordial with her come next week without losing his SHIELD objectives in the process. 

He suddenly feels as though he’s taken the role of the betrayer but, for some reason, he can’t figure out if it’s SHIELD or Jemma that he’s betraying. 

He stands up from the desk, powering down the computer and making sure that everything is in its proper place, before moving towards the SHIELD exit and locking up the office behind him as he leaves. 

Fitz makes his way back towards his apartment, glancing down at his watch and noting that Skye should be awake by now and would likely be willing to meet him at their favorite diner for lunch. He shoots her a quick text and grins at her immediate response that consists of twelve exclamation points. 

The smile slowly leaves his face as his mind wanders back to the dilemma that he’s in the middle of having to deal with. 

Fitz knows that Skye is right. He’s been absolutely terrible to Jemma and he knows that much of his poor behavior stems from his desire to put her firmly in the box labeled SciTech. It’s easier to be rude and rile her up so that Jemma is just as fierce with him because then he can take her harsh words and flippant behavior and use it as a means of confirming that everyone in SciTech is terrible. It’s worse for Fitz to notice all of the positive things about Jemma, because it makes hating her and her work that much more difficult.

It’s hard to publicly hate someone after you’ve realized that you might privately like them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I blatantly lied when I said I'd post this chapter tomorrow. Oh well, it's the shortest one in the fic and more filler than anything so I figured I'd just squeeze it in. Chapter 7 ("The Peace Offering") will be posted sometime tomorrow and then we'll be back to our regularly scheduled posting of a chapter every other day.
> 
> Many thanks as per usual for those of you who are reading/kudosing/commenting etc. It's absolutely swell!


	7. The Peace Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz calls upon the big guns to help him apologize to Jemma for his earlier behavior and ends up getting some advice from an unexpected third party.

When Monday morning rolls around Fitz wakes up far earlier than usual, grabbing his necessary things before heading out of the apartment. Instead of following his standard path to SciTech, he takes a slight detour and makes it to TeaTime just as Marta is flipping the window sign from CLOSED to OPEN.

He stands outside the door and waves tentatively at the older woman through the glass pane as she places her hands on her hips and looks at him with an expression that manages to convey both anger and disappointment. Fitz sighs at this and decides he needs to take drastic measures to get the older woman to stop glaring at him. He pouts his lips and kneels on the ground as he clasps his hands in front of him and silently begs her to let him enter the premises.

Marta stares at him for a few agonizing moments before jerking her head in acquiescence and stepping away from the door. Fitz hastily rises to his feet, brushing off the dirt from the sidewalk, and makes his way into the cozy shop. He barely makes it through the door before Marta’s voice rings out from where she is standing by the register. “I am not happy with you Fitz. Jemma was in here Saturday morning, apologizing for her behavior, and she told me about what happened.”

He groans at this because  _of course_ Jemma would apologize for something that he now realizes was  _at most_ only 20% her fault. His first assessment of his fellow Brit was clearly right on the money. The girl is unfailingly polite, even when it’s him whose decorum is severely lacking. “I  _know_ Marta. I’m  _so_ sorry. I really blew it, which is why  _I’m_ here now.”

The woman doesn’t even look at him, just sniffs indignantly and resumes counting the bills in the till. “ _Please_ help me Marta. I’m meeting Jemma in…” he glances down at his watch to make sure he’s still ahead of schedule, “… twenty minutes and I need to make it up to her. You’re the only one who knows what her tea and pastries of choice are! Please, please,  _please_ help me.”

The older woman lifts her head up during his groveling and Fitz can see in her eyes that she really  _does_ want to help him. He just needs to provide her with a better incentive to actually convince her to. “Marta, I will upgrade  _all_ of the appliances in the kitchen. I’ll make sure Koenig buys a menu item an hour. I’ll… I’ll…” She’s looking moderately intrigued but he’s yet to mention anything that seems to really motivate her into helping him. Fitz isn’t really sure what else he can offer when it suddenly hits him and he straightens up as he smiles down at the older woman. “Marta, I will  _never_ bring Skye here again.”

This perks the older woman up instantly and her entire face lights up as she beams at him. She looks positively elated at the thought of a Skye-free shop but her face falls slightly at his knowing look. “Now Fitz, it’s not that I don’t adore Skye…”

“No, of course not. I know that.”

“…but I can only tell her so many times that TeaTime does  _not_ serve coffee...”

“Yeah I’m sure that gets pretty grating.”

“…and she changes our WiFi name to something obscene  _every_ time she’s in here.”

“Trust me Marta, you  _really_ don’t need to explain why you want Skye to be banned.”

She looks at him for a long moment before her smile returns and her hand extends in his direction. “Yes, Mishka. We have a deal. If you can keep Skye away, at _least_ for a little while, I will accept your apology to me and help you with your apology for sweet Jemma. Come, come, and let’s get you a box of her favorites!”

 

-O-

 

Fitz ends up leaving TeaTime with a box of various pastries and baked goods in one hand and a tray holding two cups of tea in the other. He glances at his watch and sees that he still has a solid thirteen minutes to reach the crosswalk before the customary time that Jemma tends to get there. It only takes him three minutes before he arrives at their usual collision point, which is perfect because not five minutes later he sees a familiar figure walking towards him with her eyes fixed on her phone. 

He takes this moment to observe her, letting his mind view her simply as a woman walking in his direction rather than as a SciTech employee that he’d had more than one unpleasant exchange with. Her hair is flowing with the slight breeze and, not for the first time, he is struck by how truly pretty Jemma Simmons is. He feels a slight fluttering in his chest that reminds him of the similar feeling he’d experienced when he had first bumped into Jemma. 

_Ah, such simpler times._

He was just a guy and she was just a girl and during that first brief three minutes, they were completely unaware of their opposing stances and views. For three minutes, Jemma didn’t associate him with SHIELD and Fitz didn’t associate her with SciTech. She’d smiled up at him and he’d smiled right back down at her. He wishes he hadn’t done such an incredible job of mucking things up during every interaction that followed. 

Fitz feels another twinge of guilt when he realizes that Jemma too had left her apartment early but, instead of doing so with the intention of buying breakfast for someone she’d pissed off, she likely did it to avoid having to see him this morning. She’s about five feet away from him when he decides to speak up. 

“Hello.” 

Jemma comes to an abrupt halt and her head snaps up from where it had been focused on her phone to look in the direction of the voice that had broken her from her reverie. Her eyes narrow and her face turns cold when she sees that it’s _him_ who had spoken up and gotten her attention. She looks as though she’s about to move to brush past him but after a brief moment her irritated expression quickly turns to one of confusion. He watches as her eyes flit between the _two_ cups of tea in his left hand and the TeaTime pastry box that he is holding out to her with his right.

“What…” Jemma stares at his outstretched arm and he begins to feel slightly uncomfortable as she continues to not actually _take_ the box from him. He decides that maybe just shoving sweets in her general direction might not have been the best approach so he instead jumps to step two. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jemma’s eyes quickly move from the box to his face. She seems shocked by both the bluntness of the apology and the fact that _he’s_ the one doing the apologizing. She stares at him for a moment with her mouth slightly open in surprise before her eyes narrow again and she crosses her arms in front of her with a look of impassiveness. 

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific Fitz. What is it exactly that you’re sorry _for?”_

A tiny part of him wants to grit his teeth at her prickly nature but he again realizes that she _does_ have a point. He could be plausibly apologizing for a slew of things so he supposes that she does deserve to know what it is that this specific apology is meant for. “Well, starting with the most _recent_ thing that requires an apology… I’m sorry for my behavior last Friday. I was basically pushing you into saying anything that might rile me up enough to justify starting another argument with you… and I never should have done that. You were being more than civil and I should have just waved a white flag and finished what had been… not a totally unenjoyable meal.” 

“I see…” Jemma purses her lips at this and there is a small flame that seems to be flickering behind her eyes. Her eyebrow twitches up and he knows exactly what it is that she’s looking for. 

“Also, umm… I’m sorry for calling you… what I called you. I didn’t… You aren’t… I shouldn’t… It was uncalled for and untrue and I more than deserved that tea to the face.” 

Jemma, who had been nodding throughout his stuttered admission, blushes a bit at the final portion of it and turns her head to look down the street and avoid his eyes. “Yes, well… I suppose while we’re apologizing for our poor behavior… I should apologize for that.” 

Fitz moves to motion with his hands before remembering that they’re currently laden with tea and baked goods so he settles for hastily shaking his head at Jemma’s words. “No, you really shouldn’t. Like I said, I deserved it and… well, let’s be honest. It was probably a long time coming.” 

Jemma’s lips quirk up at this and, though it’s not quite a smile, Fitz is more than happy to take it. He moves to wedge the box of goodies under his arm so that he can free his hand to grab the cup of tea with _Jemma_ scrawled neatly on the side. 

He holds it out in front of him as he speaks. “I would like to propose a tentative truce. It may not last given our track record but… At the very least it should hold out long enough for us to enjoy the tea and pastries on the walk over to SciTech.” 

Fitz holds his breath as he tries to get a read on Jemma and almost sighs in relief as her miniscule smile stays in place and her arm reaches forward to take the cup from his grasp. “Yes, I suppose we have managed to be civil on this walk once before… I don’t see why it wouldn’t be possible for it to miraculously happen again.” 

Fitz lets his own tentative smile bloom across his face at her easy acceptance of his olive branch. “Great! All right so it’s settled. We’ll be amicable for at _least_ however long it takes us to reach our final destination.” 

He grabs his own tea before tossing the tray in the nearby bin and turning to begin moving along the street that runs perpendicular to the one they usually walk along to reach SciTech. He holds his breath for a moment until he hears her shout of, “Fitz!”

He turns to look at Jemma where she remains standing at the crosswalk, staring at him with what is quickly becoming her signature look of confusion. “ _Where_ are you going?” 

Fitz shrugs his shoulders in response and replies with, “I dunno. I figured we could take the long way around.” He hopes that she understands what he’s getting at and thinks that she does when she straightens and looks at him pensively. After holding his breath for a few moments, he sighs in relief when she gives him another small smile and begins walking towards him. He grins when he hears her speak quietly as their steps sync. 

“Yes I suppose we’re not in any rush.”

 

-O-

 

They spend the entire walk happily munching on the boxed pastries and chatting about topics that both parties feel are innocuous enough to not begin another bout of bickering. 

There had been _one_ brief moment that at the start of their journey that _almost_ caused a small fight... 

Jemma’s first sip of her tea resulted in her blanching at the taste and asking Fitz if he was trying to poison her by forcing her to drink the world’s worst tea. This of course set Fitz off, defensively telling her that it was _Marta_ who had made her tea and if it’s so bloody terrible she can go throw it in the poor woman’s face. Naturally _this_ reaction caused Jemma to glare at him for five seconds, tell him that she was _kidding,_ and begin turning around to take the usual route to work. 

Fitz had managed to apologize quickly and sincerely enough to convince her to keep walking with him but he’d been sure to stuff his face with as many of the small pastries as possible to prevent himself from again saying something stupid. 

Now they’re speaking amiably with only a small undercurrent of tension and Fitz finds that he’s actually disappointed when he spots the SciTech building looming a few blocks away. He slows his pace slightly, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Jemma, and returns his focus to the woman speaking next to him. 

“… _utterly_ absurd. The differences are innumerable. I mean really, what kind of test question asks someone to name the _main_ difference between a rock and an egg?” 

Fitz lets out a laugh at this and Jemma turns to face him with a smile. “I mean, I could _start_ listing them but…” 

“Then we’d be here all day.” Fitz finishes her sentence and smiles at the look of pleasant surprise that crosses her face. 

By the time they finally reach SciTech both are happily walking in a companionable silence with small smiles on their respective faces. Jemma begins walking towards the entrance but Fitz lingers behind, glancing furtively at the gathered SHIELD protestors who have yet to realize his presence. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess?” 

Jemma turns around at the sound of his voice and for a brief moment he swears she looks somewhat disappointed. He assumes it’s her reacting towards the prospect of having to see him again tomorrow morning so he hastily tries to backtrack.

“I mean… I don’t _have_ to see you tomorrow. I just meant… we usually _do_ see each other in the morning… But if that’s not… If you don’t… I can just leave later so we won’t bump into each other…” 

“No!” Fitz recoils slightly at Jemma’s shout but waits for her to continue before letting himself get his hopes up. “No, don’t do that. I’ll definitely see you tomorrow Fitz.” She gives him one last smile and pairs it with a little wave and then turns away and heads towards SciTech. 

Fitz watches her walk through the doors with a grin on his face and jumps in surprise when he feels a strong hand clap him on the shoulder. He groans when he sees that it’s Hunter who’s standing so uncomfortably close to him. 

“Boy do I know that look.” The other Brit’s eyes are fixed on the doors that Jemma had just entered and Fitz grits his teeth when Hunter lets out an appreciative whistle. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fitz turns away from the entrance and slowly begins walking towards the gathered protestors. Hunter quickly catches up to him and throws an arm around Fitz’s shoulders before whispering conspiratorially in his ear. 

“Bloody hell mate, you couldn’t _be_ more obvious about your crush on the little lab-tech.” 

Fitz immediately stops moving and quickly turns towards Hunter, stepping closer to the other man and keeping his voice low so that none of the other SHIELD members overhear their conversation. 

“All right, A: I do not have a crush on _anyone,_ everyone needs to stop saying that. And B: Jemma’s not just some lab-tech, she’s the head of the science division.” 

“Jemma, eh?” Hunter smiles at him mischievously before shooting him an incredibly obvious wink. “Sure Fitz… You’re not crushing on _anyone.”_  

“Seriously Hunter, I know you like to gossip more than those trashy magazines but this isn’t a rumor I want you to start. Whatever crush I may or may not have is my business.” 

Hunter grins at this and Fitz groans at his slight slip-up. He slams a hand over the other man’s mouth before Hunter starts talking and glances around quickly before hissing under his breath. “Hunter, I mean it. I _really_ don’t need anyone thinking that I’m cavorting with someone from the enemy lines when I’m _not_. Not now, not ever. She’d never go for me and I’d never do that to SHIELD. It’d be… It’d be a total betrayal.” 

“Oh Fitz, don’t beat yourself up mate. Did I ever tell you about the first protest I took part in?” 

Fitz shakes his head at this and Hunter looks at some unknown point in the distance with a wistful expression.

“It was eight years ago… The summer of 2007… Me and a small group of people heard about a biochem company that was responsible for the pollution of a nearby lake and decided to stage a protest outside their building. Well, the _first_ day there I saw the most _stunning_ creature that has ever walked the earth. I’m telling you Fitz, never in my life have I seen someone so beautiful.” 

“Hunter, we need to get moving so please just get to the point.” 

“All right, all right, jeez mate. Anyways, short story is that the aforementioned bird worked at the very institution that I was protesting. She was a member of the biochem division and I was rallying _against_ her. We bickered for two weeks before realizing that our arguments had more to do with sexual tension than anything else. So, then we _released_ said tension. A few times if you catch my drift…” 

Hunter pauses the story long enough for him to waggle his eyebrows and Fitz to roll his eyes. 

“We ended up agreeing that, despite our connection, pursuing anything would just make things more complicated for the both of us. So she focused all of her energy on her work, and I focused mine on the protest. But we were both miserable, having to see one another every day and pretend to hate each other was exhausting and just ended up making things more difficult than they would have been if we’d just been honest with ourselves and are respective ‘sides’ from the get go.” 

When he realizes that Hunter’s story is in fact done, Fitz looks quizzically at the other man. “I don’t… I don’t fully understand your point.” 

“My _point_ dear Fitz, is that the first step is admitting that you do in fact have a crush and the second step is pursuing it. Don’t let yourself be lonely just because you feel guilty about who it is you want to _not_ be lonely with.” 

With that parting word of advice Hunter gives Fitz another pat on the back and begins to make his way towards the gathered protestors. Fitz thinks about the other man’s reveal and finds himself that much more torn about Jemma. There’s no question that it was a good story but there’s one more thing that Fitz wants to know. “Hey Hunter?” 

“Yeah mate?” The other man turns around to face him but continues walking backwards away from Fitz. 

Fitz hesitates for a moment, worried that his next question will make his still unconfirmed crush on Jemma that much more obvious. He decides to ask it anyways because he thinks, in this _one_ instance, Hunter will keep their conversation between them. “What about the girl, what happened with you and her?” 

“Who, Bobbi?” 

Fitz nods his head at this, assuming that Bobbi is the girl in the story, and holds his breath in anticipation. Hunter gives him a wide grin and turns around to walk towards the gathered SHIELD members, shouting his answer over his shoulder in a manner that allows Fitz to hear the smile in his voice. 

“I married her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fitz finally apologizes to Jemma but it certainly won't be the last time. Chapter 8 ("Tea For Two, Take Two?) will be up on Tuesday. And I have no reservations promising that there will be more FitzSimmons interaction in the chapter than whatever will occur in the actual SHIELD episode.
> 
> Many thanks as per usual for those of you who are reading! Genuinely appreciated on my end.


	8. Tea For Two, Take Two?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Simmons begin a new routine but, like most things, Fitz lets his big head and bigger mouth get in the way.

When Fitz reaches the crosswalk the next morning Jemma is already standing there with a muffin in each hand. She smiles at him as he approaches and wordlessly hands him one of the baked goods once he’s within reaching distance. He takes it with an appreciative smile and a mumbled, “Thank you.”

After a few moments of silence, Jemma inquires as to whether or not he has a subscription to _Popular Science,_ and when Fitz nods in the affirmative around a bite of his muffin she animatedly launches into a discussion about the cover article from this week’s issue. 

He matches her enthusiasm and begins detailing all of the ways in which the device that was highlighted could have been tweaked in order to make it more efficient. Jemma nods eagerly at his words, chiming in with her own ideas, and by the time they part ways in front of SciTech Fitz’s mind is buzzing pleasantly with ideas and designs that he hadn’t thought about in years.

 

-O-

 

On Wednesday morning Fitz gets to the crosswalk first and has two plain bagels grasped in his hands. He’s only there for a minute before he catches sight of Jemma’s auburn hair and grins without thinking. 

“Fitz.” 

“Simmons.” 

They smile at each other for a brief moment before Fitz holds out his hands. “Pick your poison: butter or cream cheese?” 

Jemma quickly snatches the buttered bagel and takes a bite from it as Fitz resumes their conversation from yesterday. He eagerly discusses some of the ideas he’d ruminated last night after returning home and Jemma nods along with him, asking questions when necessary, but mostly just making her own suggestions about potential improvements. Fitz can’t remember ever having a conversation like this with someone who’s actually able to keep up with him and he feels a giddiness consume him as Jemma not only keeps up with him, but also matches and challenges him as well.

They both seem to dawdle on their walk, neither particularly inclined to get to SciTech as quickly as possible. Once they’re a block away they move in tandem and switch bagel halves with one another without stopping their conversation. It’s not until he’s taken three bites of the buttered bagel that Fitz realizes what they’d done and flushes red as he glances at Jemma happily munching on her cream cheese half. She’s excitedly discussing the potentials of dendrotoxin and seemingly doesn’t even notice their trade so he decides not to mention it. 

When they reach the SciTech entrance Jemma glances at her watch, jumps as she realizes that for the first time in her life she’s running late, and hastily shoves her trash in Fitz’s hand with a quick, “Please, thank you, see you tomorrow,” that she pairs with a hasty wave over her shoulder.

 

-O-

 

Thursday is Fitz’s favorite day to date because Jemma meets him at the crosswalk with egg and cheese sandwiches that cause him to salivate on sight. 

“Fitz.” 

“Simmons.” 

He makes grabby hands at her and Jemma giggles at the sight. The sound is _almost_ enough to distract him from the hot food but in the end the smell of the egg and cheese holds his attention longer than the sound of Jemma’s laugh. Fitz, though happy to see her, is roughly thirty times happier biting into the sandwich and tasting the egg and cheese. He moans rather improperly as Jemma looks on in disgust while he all but inhales the sandwich. 

He barely chews between bites, which influences their conversation of the day as Jemma begins to lecture him on the dangers of choking and the necessity of taking small bites when eating. This of course causes Fitz to cram the remaining half of the sandwich into his mouth and chew audibly with his mouth open. Jemma stares in mild horror at the display and rolls her eyes, muttering, “Told you so,” when Fitz actually _does_ begin to gag. He ends up having to run to the nearest trashcan to spit some of the sandwich out and clear his airway. 

Jemma makes a point of eating her own sandwich slowly and deliberately, waving it in front of Fitz’s face as he stares at it in longing and wishes he hadn’t been so careless with his own. He sulks the rest of the way to SciTech but cheers up significantly when Jemma casually mentions that she’s not supposed to have food in the lab and, unless he’s willing to finish her sandwich for her, she’ll likely have to throw it away before entering the building. 

He _knows_ she’s lying but beams in appreciation as she hands the food over, fingers grazing his hand and leaving goose bumps in their wake. She gives him another smile, coupling it with a quick wave, and turns away to head into work.

 

-O-

 

Friday morning has Fitz waiting nervously at their meeting place. He’d overslept, had rushed to get to the crosswalk at their usual time, and didn’t realize until after he’d arrived that he hadn’t brought any sort of food or drink for him and Jemma. When he sees her walking towards him he straightens up immediately with pitiful look on his face. The moment Jemma catches sight of him her initial smile transforms into a look of worry. 

“Fitz? What’s wrong?” Jemma speaks the moment Fitz is in hearing range and he sighs in defeat, which does nothing to assuage Jemma’s worried confusion. 

“I realize it was my morning to bring something, but I was running late and I didn’t have time to stop to get anything. I’m sorry.” 

Jemma looks at him for a moment before she bursts out laughing. He feels his anxiousness slowly dissipate as he realizes that she isn’t mad at him. “That’s what that look was for?! You looked as though someone _died.”_

He’s glad that she doesn’t seem upset but _he_ is and mumbles, “Just our breakfast tradition,” under his breath in response. 

Jemma laughs again and squeezes his arm affectionately. “Fitz, it’s fine, _really._ Don’t worry about it. _”_ He’s only able to focus 50% of his brain on her words because the other half is entirely distracted by the warmth that seems to radiate from her hand into his arm. As though she can read his mind, which he’s actually wondered a few times during their morning walks, Jemma removes her hand and begins walking as the crosswalk changes. 

Fitz moves to fall into step beside her and clenches his fists at his sides. He blinks twice and then coughs as he decides to just rip the Band-Aid off and pitch Jemma his proposal. “Well umm… since we can’t have our usual breakfast…” 

He sees Jemma’s steps falter in his peripheral vision and turns in her direction just as she tilts her head towards him with a raised eyebrow. 

“…I mean, it _is_ Friday and it’d be a shame, almost _criminal_ even, not to take advantage of Clotted Cream and Crumpets Friday… What’s say we pay Marta a joint visit during lunch? Keep up tradition of a meal a day. That is… I mean… if you _want_ to. I don’t mean to imply that we _have_ to…” 

Jemma turns to face forward and when she doesn’t respond he feels a ping of disappointment run through him. He can see her biting her lip in his peripheral vision and has enough experience with Skye to know that it’s not usually a good sign. The lip biting paired with the way her hands begin fiddling in front of her are a pretty good indicator that he should have just kept his mouth shut and not rocked the boat that is their tentative acquaintance. He moves his hand to scratch at the back of his neck nervously when he sees Jemma open her mouth. 

“I’m sorry Fitz, today’s no good for me.” 

He feels his heart sink slightly at her turning down of his offer. He hadn’t really been _expecting_ her to want to have lunch together but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t allowed himself to at least _hope_ that she might extend their tentative white flag to the lunch hours.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine I get it.” 

He wants to crawl under a rock and never come out because he feels like an absolute idiot. Apparently he’s no good at finding any sort of middle ground when it comes to Jemma Simmons. He’s either a total asshole intent on upsetting her or a pathetic sap that misreads everything and upsets her in a different way. 

“I _want_ to Fitz. I just… I don’t think I’ll be able to get away from the lab today.” 

Jemma is looking at him now, not fully paying attention to where she’s walking, but Fitz doesn’t meet her gaze. His own eyes are pointed forward and his strides have lengthened, propelling him towards SciTech at a pace that is far quicker than usual. 

“If I could I _would_ but…” 

Fitz cuts her off before she can finish because he _really_ doesn’t feel like hearing the full rejection at this particular moment. “Seriously Jemma don’t sweat it. It’s no big deal.” He glances both ways to make sure no cars are coming before jaywalking across the street and sighing in relief as he pulls up to the SHIELD tent and SciTech. 

“Come on Fitz…” 

He ignores her again and instead turns his gaze towards the other SHIELD protestors. “Mack’s waving me over, I’ve got to run.” 

He’s glad that Jemma has no clue who any of the protestors actually are and therefore can’t call him out on the fact that Mack is most certainly _not_ waving him over from the tent since the other man would have to actually _be_ there in order to do so. 

“Fitz…” 

He doesn’t even look at her as he turns away with a mumbled, “See you around Simmons.” 

“Fitz!” 

He doesn’t look back as he makes his way over to the SHIELD group and picks up a ‘SciTech Promotes Abuse’ sign from the pile. It was that or a ‘GH325 Kills’ sign and for some reason he decides he’d like to go for the poetic irony. He smacks Hunter on the back of the head when he sees him and mutters, “Thanks for nothing,” under his breath as he walks towards the others.

 

-O-

 

Just because Jemma had turned down Fitz’s offer for lunch doesn’t mean he’s willing to give up missing another Friday at TeaTime so when his 12:30 comes around he doesn’t hesitate to follow the familiar path to his favorite place in the city. 

Seeing the little shop immediately puts him at ease and he’s smiling when he opens the door and steps inside. The smile falters when he hears a familiar laugh and disappears completely when he spots Jemma sitting in the corner table with two other men. He stares at her in shock as he feels his heart thump painfully against his ribcage. 

“Mishka!” Fitz’s eyes shift to Marta before flickering back to Jemma, whose eyes had zeroed in on him at the older woman’s shout of his nickname. He watches as Jemma’s mouth falls open and the blood seems to drain from her face. He slowly backs towards the door and reaches back to grasp for the handle. 

“Mishka? Where are you going?” 

Fitz is surprised he can even hear the question over the blood rushing in his ears and he turns to face the older woman with a strained smile. “Sorry Marta, I had less time than I thought I did. Have to head back now. I’ll stop by this weekend!” He turns towards the door and casting one last look at Jemma, who is now standing at her table and openly staring at him. Fitz ignores the look in her eyes and yanks the door open, hastily exiting the shop without a backwards glance. 

He’s not surprised when he makes it about thirty feet down the street and hears someone call his name. He makes no indication that he’s heard Jemma’s call and keeps his feet moving and his head rigidly facing forward. 

“ _Fitz.”_

The voice is closer now and he hears the telltale slap of running shoes on pavement. He keeps his pace steady. 

“Fitz! Will you just stop for _one second_.”

He’s going to ignore this too but then he feels Jemma grip his elbow and it ignites an anger in him that has him turning sharply around to face her.

“Bloody hell. What? What do you want?” 

“I…” She pauses to look at him and, though she looks properly anguished, he stares at her with a cold glare as the silence surrounds them. 

He quirks his eyebrow at her and nods once as she still just stands before him without speaking. “Yeah that’s what I figured.” 

“Fitz _stop._ Just let me explain. _”_

“God Jemma, you don’t _have_ to. Don’t you get it? You. Don’t. Have to. Wanna know why?” 

She opens her mouth to speak but he barrels on before she can. 

“Because we aren’t friends. We’re not friends and we’re _barely_ acquaintances so there’s no need to explain anything to me. If you didn’t want to have lunch with me, fine, you could have told me. No harm, no foul. You’d be doing me a favor actually because after how much of an ass I was last week I told myself that I would be cordial with you from then on out. And I was, I listened to you blabber on about science magazines, I pretended to care about your weird paralysis toxin, and I acted as though you and your job didn’t make me sick. But guess what? I’m done with all that. I’m done pretending.” 

She stares at him in shock as he breathes in heavily, face red from the rant and heart hammering in his chest. He’s too far-gone to stop now so he decides to add the poisoned cherry to the shit sundae he’d just created. 

“So here it is: you’re a liar and a hypocrite if you think that what you’re doing at SciTech is going to help anyone other than yourself. The _only_ thing that your research will do is get you a nice SciTech bonus package that you’ll probably waste on that dendrotoxin shit. You’re researching a drug that is _dangerous_ and will inevitably do more harm than good. You’re _killing_ animals when you _know_ that you can only do so much to study GH325 with the limited resources that you have at SciTech. And lastly, you’re deluding yourself into thinking that you’re doing good. And that’s the really sick thing Simmons. You actually _believe_ it.” 

There are unshed tears in Jemma’s eyes when he finishes and Fitz swallows as he takes in the sight. She blinks once before turning around and walking back towards the entrance to TeaTime. He watches her go and straightens when she stops to turn back and face him. The tears are no longer unshed and he watches in dismay as a small trail of water makes its way down her face as Jemma opens her mouth to speak. 

“I’m so _sorry_ that spending four minutes a day with me was such a burden for you Fitz, trust me when I say that there’s no need to waste your time on false cordiality in the future. As for your comment about SciTech resources… You’re absolutely right. They’re severely lacking. That’s why I’m in the middle of a _lunch meeting_ with Jasper Sitwell and Alexander Pierce, owner of SciTech, I’m sure you’ve heard of him. I’ve submitted my grant to the NIH to further pursue the GH325 research and we were just discussing plausible testing alternatives should it go through.” 

Fitz feels something clench in his stomach and is overwhelmed with a _very_ bad feeling as Jemma straightens up and glares at him. “Though, suddenly I feel as though Sitwell’s point regarding the need to continue animal testing seems far more sound than _my_ pitched suggestion of possibly making the transition to cell culture and tissue engineering.” 

Fitz’s mouth falls open at this as he thinks back to the other day when _he_ had mentioned that very alternative in passing as they’d discussed one of the _Popular Science_ articles that he’d just lied about having no interest in. _She’d actually been listening to him._ The squeezing feeling in his chest that had been present the second he’d seen Jemma sitting inside of TeaTime tightens, as his heart seems to drop and his gut feels as though it was just hit with a battering ram. 

_Oh he’d fucked up. Again._  

“Simmons… I didn’t… I’m…” He doesn’t know what to say so he just stutters out those few words and then stares at her silently with a helpless look on his face. 

Jemma hastily swipes at her cheeks, ridding them of tears, before leveling him with a stony glare. “No need to explain Fitz. _I get it.”_

She turns away from him again; yanking open the door to TeaTime and disappearing from sight as Fitz is left standing alone on the sidewalk with his now standard feeling of regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is so dumb and yet, this still isn't his dumbest moment within this fic. The next chapter will have a bit more levity and a bit less drama because Skye, Fitz, and Jemma will finally be in the same room together, which naturally causes trouble for him and general amusement for everyone else.
> 
> 'You, Me, and Skye Makes Three' is coming your way on Thursday!
> 
> (also, again, I profusely thank those of you who are actually reading this thing)


	9. You, Me, and Skye Makes Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is still upset about his earlier interaction with Jemma and jumps at Skye’s offer for a bar night, finding himself to be more than a little surprised to discover that his roommate isn’t alone by the time he reaches the Boiler Room.

****

Fitz walks into the bar with his head down and his eyes focused on his cell phone. He’d immediately agreed to his roommate’s suggestion of a bar night, needing alcohol and Skye’s infectious enthusiasm to make him forget about the day’s earlier incident with Jemma. After leaving TeaTime he’d wandered aimlessly around the city for the rest of his lunch break before returning to the SHIELD post in front of SciTech and standing in a complete daze for the remainder of the day. 

Skye had informed him via text, through the combined use of expletives and emojis, that she had somehow managed to snag some stools at the bar. _That_ text had promptly been followed by a second that detailed all of the ways she would torture him if he didn’t show up soon and use his, “impenetrable bubble of pessimism,” to repel away the creeps that kept hitting on her. 

 _The Boiler Room_ is more crowded than usual and Fitz has to squeeze himself through more than one overly affectionate couple before he spots Skye chatting animatedly to someone at the bar. He narrowly avoids being sandwiched in a chest-bump between two frat boys and the next time he looks up he sees Skye laughing and waving him over from where she’s sitting.

Once he’s a few feet away he can finally hear Skye over the loud din of the bar and he’s not all that surprised to hear what the conversation seems to be focused on since it’s her go-to drinking topic. “… agree it’s totally ridiculous. In _what_ world would that _ever_ happen?! Leopold you idiot, come here and listen to two intelligent women totally disprove your dumb Dr. Who theory!”

Fitz rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics and slows his approach as he processes her statement and notes the woman that is speaking to Skye. His steps falter for a moment as he observes what little he can see of the stranger and he immediately knows that he’ll likely once again make a fool of himself in front of a beautiful woman today.

“God I’ve been all alone having this same argument for _ages._ I’m so glad that I finally have someone to back me up on…” Fitz tunes Skye out completely as he gets within reaching distance of the pair and finally realizes whom it is that his best friend is speaking to.

His mouth drops open in surprise as his eyes roam over her body, no longer covered by standard workplace cardigans and properly modest slacks. Instead she’s in a pair of jeans that are so tight he worries they may actually be dangerous for her circulation, and a long-sleeve shirt that hugs her torso and leaves him feeling more than a little flustered.

_“Jemma?!”_

He watches Jemma jump at the sound of her name, whirling around to face him as she chokes on the beer that she’d just taken a swig of. Skye jumps too as the other woman is overcome by a sudden coughing fit, and she shoots Jemma a worried look while motioning for Fitz to do something to help.

He’s not exactly sure that he’s qualified to handle a situation like this and begins to awkwardly thump Jemma’s back in the hope that it will be enough to get Skye to stop staring at him. 

Fitz doesn’t think he can really take any credit for it but Jemma’s coughing doesn’t last long, dying out in about a minute as she slowly sips from the glass of water that the bartender had brought over the minute he saw that the pretty girl in the form-fitting top was in need of assistance. Clearly the employee didn’t think the awkward bloke thwacking Jemma on the back with a look of utter panic met the standard, “white knight,” criteria. Fitz doesn’t blame him. 

Jemma wipes at the tears gathered in her eyes and it’s only then that Fitz realizes his awkward pats had somehow transformed into him rubbing small circles on her back. He pulls his hand away quickly and shoves it in his pocket; ignoring the curious look that Skye is shooting him, and focuses on Jemma’s widening eyes. 

_“Fitz?_

Skye’s eyes are moving between the two of them in an astonished confusion and he internally groans at what he’s sure will turn into a barrage of questions. “Wait, wait, wait. You know Fitz? How the hell do you know Fitz? _No one_ knows Fitz!” 

Fitz can see the intrigued gleam in his friend’s eyes and decides that a hasty introduction is the best course of action in order to stop Skye’s curiosity from overwhelming Jemma. 

“Skye, Simmons. Simmons, Skye.” He gestures quickly between the two women, not wanting to prolong their interaction, and leans across the bar with the assumption that Skye will follow their usual routine and use her feminine wiles to help his surly self get his hands on a beer. As is usually the case with the younger girl, his assumption is woefully off the mark and he instead is left waving down the bartender on his own while keeping his ears and eyes on the two women a few seats down. 

Almost immediately he regrets his pathetic introduction because he watches as Skye’s eyes narrow and then widen in delight as she puts two and two together. “Simmons? As in _Jemma_ Simmons? As in _SciTech_ Jemma Simmons? Oh man this is too great! Fitz never shuts up about you!” 

Jemma quirks her head at this, glancing in his direction with a raised eyebrow and a curious expression on her face. There’s a small storm behind her eyes and he hangs his head to avoid her stare, not wanting to be reminded of the fact that the last time they’d been together… he’d made her cry. Fitz can feel her eyes boring into him and does his best to keep his own gaze on the bartender that is still successfully ignoring him. 

Jemma turns back towards the other girl and Fitz becomes increasingly worried about her and Skye being in the same place at once. “Oh _really_? Let me guess, he’s told you all about how I’m the Devil reincarnated and am single-handedly responsible for all of the terrible things currently happening in the world.” 

She talks with an easy grin, the standard setting for most people that speak with Skye, but Fitz doesn’t miss the way her hand nervously grips the near-empty beer bottle a little tighter and her back straightens as though bracing herself for a physical blow. He has a feeling that she’s thinking of their last exchange and he wants to once again hang his head in shame and apologize profusely for making her believe his earlier words. 

Instead he opts to let Skye do her thing, the thing that _he_ had come to the bar for, and use her innate eagerness and charm to make Jemma forget whatever it was that had sent _her_ to the bar. Fitz has a feeling that it was actually _him_ that had driven Jemma to drink, so he keeps his distance and fidgets at the bar, watching as the pint meant for him is filled at an agonizingly slow pace ten feet away. He grows increasingly uneasy as he watches each ounce of the amber liquid flow into the glass stein. 

His unease is _mostly_ caused by the fact that he knows Skye enough to realize that she’s already had enough to drink to go completely rogue on him and disregard her already nonexistent filter for the sake of girl talk. 

“What? _No!”_ Skye seems genuinely appalled by the other woman’s question and Fitz wonders if she’s noticed the same tension in Jemma that he has. “I mean he tried to once, _maybe_ twice. But I’m pretty sure he said ‘Satan’s Mistress’ not the Devil himself. If I’m being honest he always _starts_ talking about how terrible your life choices are...” 

Fitz starts gently hitting his head on the bar as he hears Skye mention his opinion on Jemma’s life choices and wonders if this situation could truly get any worse. 

“…but then he always ends up going on these weirdly descriptive tangents about how your nose scrunches up when you get irritated.” Fitz’s head lifts at this as his eyes begin to bug out of his head as he realizes exactly which direction Skye has decided to take this conversation. 

He would have preferred route A: him as the pessimist who comes home after a long day and complains to his roommate about the _unbearable_ woman that is intent on making his life difficult. Sure, he’s become increasingly aware of the sick feeling he gets when he watches the flicker of hurt cross Jemma’s face after a particularly harsh jab, but it fits the role he’s taken. Skye, however, has clearly decided to choose option B, focusing instead on informing Jemma about drunk and _slightly_ piney Fitz, who tends to lose the gruff persona and instead gets overly chatty and truthful. 

“There was also a _very_ detailed breakdown of how the angles of your eyebrows can indicate how you feel about a certain topic or situation…” 

Fitz’s eyes zero in on the way Jemma’s fingers have suddenly stopped tapping against the glass bottle in her hands before flitting to the aforementioned eyebrows, which are raised high in surprise. 

“…but I usually stop paying attention at that point, because honestly the calculations just get _way_ too intricate for me. Like, hello! High school dropout here, I can’t keep up with that shit! Anyways… Then he usually just talks about how you’re a literal genius and how you’re doing all this cool stuff with dindomoxin or something…” 

Fitz’s eyes widen with each word as his ears become filled with the erratic thudding of his own heart. He’d _just_ lied and told Jemma that he thought that stuff was stupid and here’s Skye, telling her the truth and making him look like an even bigger idiot than usual. He hastily pushes himself off the bar, ignoring the beer that finally appears at his side, and launches himself at his chatty friend in a desperate attempt to stop her from embarrassing him any further. 

Fitz manages to get his free hand over Skye’s mouth before she decides to also mention the rather explicit dream he’d drunkenly confessed to having a few days ago while she’s spilling all of his Jemma-related secrets, but within two seconds he can feel her licking his palm and, though he tries to stand his ground for the sake of his own dignity, his hand doesn’t remain stationary for long. After a particularly slobbery stroke of the tongue, he wrenches his hand away in disgust, wiping his palm on his jeans and glaring at Skye as he actively avoids Jemma’s gaze. 

Skye remains entirely unfazed, merely smirking at him before turning back to Jemma and hammering the last nail into the proverbial coffin. “Let me tell you Simmons, it sure is fun watching Fitz try to get rid of the heart eyes on his own.” 

“ _Skye!”_ He’s not sure if the delivery of the name could be considered a hiss or a yell but he _is_ certain that the emotion behind it is unmistakably a mixture of frustration and anger. With a fair bit of embarrassment as well. 

“Oh _relax_ Fitz, Jemma knows I’m just messing around, don’t you Jemma?” Skye smiles placatingly at him and ruffles his hair in affection before turning back to Jemma with an easy grin. He can’t help following her gaze and lets his own eyes flit towards Jemma for the first time since Hurricane Skye decided to be so utterly mortifying. 

There’s no way she could _possibly_ believe that Skye was kidding because everything that the girl had said was information that was entirely specific to Jemma. The nose scrunching, the eyebrows, the _dendrotoxin._ Skye wouldn’t have been able to make any of that stuff up, she’d have to have been _told_ about it by someone else. And the _only_ person who could have given her such details was Fitz. 

He knows it, Skye knows it, and Jemma likely does too. 

But there is an uncertain look on Jemma’s face that gives Fitz a brief flicker of hope that his pride is in fact salvageable. He turns his body so that he is blocking Skye’s frame from Jemma’s gaze and focuses his mind on quickly coming up with a solution, or at the very least a distraction, for Skye’s over sharing. 

Fitz inhales sharply as he once again takes in Jemma’s appearance and is able to fully process how different she looks in such a relaxed environment. Her eyes are a shade darker than usual, pupils blown wide in the dimly lit bar, but her lips are infinitely more alluring as they offset her blushing cheeks. He has to internally count to five before he deems himself calm enough to speak coherently, and he lets out a slow breath before he even attempts to speak. It takes one word to realize that counting to three wouldn’t have sufficed, because he’s barely able to babble out an intelligible sentence now. 

“Never trust a drunk Skye, Dr. Simmons. She’ll spread filthy lies to gain your confidence and then, next thing you know, she’s tricked you into paying her bar tab.” 

He faintly hears Skye’s, “God dammit Leopold, that was _one_ time! Will you just let it go already?! I mean… _come on_ …” but ignores it in favor of cataloging Jemma’s reaction to his bumbling. 

His fingers are crossed behind his back and he desperately hopes that: A. Skye will stop repeatedly flicking them and B. Jemma doesn’t see through his pathetic attempt at hiding his growing feelings for her. 

But then Fitz sees what he thinks is a brief flicker of disappointment cross her face, as though she might have actually _wanted_ to believe the other woman, and he suddenly wonders what would have happened if he hadn’t felt the need to deny Skye’s words. 

The look is so fleeting though that he wonders if he’d imagined it completely. 

Jemma tilts her head and gazes at him as though he is one of her research projects, all furrowed brows and squinted eyes, and Fitz feels as though she is trying to solve whatever puzzle she thinks he is. He feels uncomfortable under her scrutiny, not because he minds being the subject of her attention, but because he’s worried she might figure him out before he himself does. 

There’s a small frown on Jemma’s face but Fitz chalks it up to her realizing she can’t crack him and in an instant it’s replaced by a _very_ tentative smile and a brief tilt of the head. He feels his body relax immediately at her acceptance of his white flag. He’s grateful to the universe that Jemma had already been drinking, with Skye no less, and was far more forgiving of him than she should be. She had every right to make him grovel at her feet but, evidently, a few minutes with Skye has made Jemma entirely too amiable. 

Skye must notice the tension leave his body because within a second she’s shoving Fitz aside and jumping at the chance to speak with Jemma again. “In all seriousness I really _am_ excited to meet you. Fitz is a real pain in the ass and now I have someone to commiserate with!” 

“ _You_ have someone to commiserate with?!” Fitz scoffs at Skye’s statement before turning to audibly whisper conspiratorially in Jemma’s general vicinity. “She didn’t even watch the original Who, only started with the Eleventh Doctor because, and I _quote,_ ‘Matt Smith is an utter dreamboat.’ Bloody ridiculous reason to watch a show.” 

Jemma lets out a loud laugh at this and Fitz is struck by how much he prefers making her smile than he does making her scowl. 

“Oh Skye, for shame!” Jemma shoots Skye a scandalized look and places her hand over her heart in mock offense. Fitz grins, turning to Skye and opening his mouth to gloat in his ability to get Jemma to join his side when Simmons continues talking.

“Clearly if you’re watching for the dreamboat factor, it’s the Tenth Doctor you should start with.” 

Fitz snaps his mouth at this, turning towards Jemma with betrayal in his eyes and groaning as she shrugs and smirks at him before focusing her attention back towards Skye, who is latching on to the debate with gusto. “Tenth? _Tenth?!_ Why on _earth_ would you choose Tennant over Smith?!” 

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a Scottish accent.” Jemma chuckles as the words leave her mouth but almost immediately her jaw drops open and her eyes widen. Fitz is too stunned to react but he watches with growing amusement, as Jemma seems to replay what she’d said, cheeks growing redder by the second and head shaking back and forth in denial. 

“No, no, no… That’s not… I didn’t… I wasn’t implying that… You… I _don’t…_ Not _your_ Scottish accent…” At this point Skye is doubled over in laughter and Fitz himself is trying to hide his own grin behind his pint. He finds that he likes watching Jemma blush so he decides to prolong this moment as long as he can. 

He makes his brogue as thick as he can and doesn’t stop to question the forwardness of his teasing, instead letting the alcohol do his talking for him. “Are you saying you’re interested in seeing my tartan Simmons? All you have to do is ask, I’m happy to oblige.” 

This draws out another burst of laughter from Skye, who is wheezing beside him and clutching her abdomen. Whether she’s laughing at the ridiculous things he’s said, _how_ he’s said them, or the situation in general he doesn’t know, but he appreciates it none the less. 

Jemma on the other hand is glaring at him; cheeks still a bright red, with a fiery glint in her eyes. “Oh shove off you complete and utter prat.” There’s not much bite to her words and her face is still rosy, so Fitz thinks it’s safe to wiggle his eyebrows at her and lean against the bar in the utterly ridiculous, ‘sexy-casual,’ pose that he’s seen so many men do. 

Jemma’s eyes narrow once more. “Bloody Scots…” She shoves Fitz’s shoulder and turns to face Skye, “I’ve changed my mind. Eleven is the superior Doctor.” 

He and Skye both throw their heads back in laughter at this and Jemma rolls her eyes in exasperation. She proceeds to tilt her head back and knock off the rest of her beer with far more dignity than anyone else in her position would be able to pull off. 

Fitz’s own laughter dies down as he watches her swallow the amber liquid, leaving him with an easy grin and warmth that he knows has nothing to do with alcohol.

 

-O-

 

The remainder of the evening is spent with Fitz serving as both the metaphorical and physical punching bag for the two women as both try to outdo each other with ridiculous stories involving him. Skye has a full rolodex of embarrassing tales but Jemma holds her own, not sparing any details when mentioning her own interactions with him. 

“…so after he barrels into me, I offer to _help_ him, and he spends the entire walk unknowingly bashing me and my life’s work.” Skye’s eyes widen and she gasps in an appropriately theatrical manner for someone who’s had at least six drinks. “Stop! He did not!” 

Jemma’s had about four drinks herself and nods enthusiastically at Skye’s response. “Yeah! Called me a soulless robot, said I was a waste of funds.” 

He has to physically duck out of the way to avoid Skye’s hand as it comes flying towards his face. “Oy! Bloody hell woman, watch where you swing that thing!” 

“Don’t you ‘bloody hell woman’ me Fitz! You apologize to Simmons right now! Soulless robot. That’s an awful thing to say to someone!” Skye glares at him across the booth that they’d managed to commandeer an hour ago and they quickly become locked in a staring contest. 

“What is happening right now…” Jemma sips at her drink as she looks between the roommates with uncertainty. 

“I’m defending your honor Simmons. Fitz is going to lose this staring contest, like he _always_ does, and when the inevitable happens he’s going to give you the apology you deserve.” Skye’s eyes don’t so much as twitch throughout the monologue and Fitz knows that she’s likely right about the predicted events. 

“Oh please, that’s _really_ not necessary. He’s said far worse things. That one barely phased me.” 

Jemma is wholly nonchalant with her comment but Fitz blinks as he registers the, “ _that one.”_ His mind wanders back to the fiasco at lunch, the tears that she’d done her best to hide, and he feels her words echo in his head. Fitz turns towards Jemma and notes that she’s distractedly, and slightly tipsily, drawing chemical symbols on the bar napkin lying on the table, seemingly unaware of how much she’d revealed and how much he’d picked up on. 

Fitz doesn’t need to hear Skye’s, “You blinked,” to know that an apology is coming from him whether Simmons expects one or not. 

He doesn’t want to startle Jemma too much so he decides to add some flair and a bit of levity. He slides across the booth until he can snatch the Sharpie from Jemma and grasp both of her hands in his own. She blinks up at him in surprise before she seems to realize what he’s about to do and rolls her eyes.

“Jemma Simmons, Doctor, Doctor, Jemma Simmons. Please accept my sincerest apologies. While I may have reservations about the practices utilized by SciTech, you yourself are a sublime creature with a heart that is two sizes too big and an emotional span that robots and humans alike should envy.” 

He begins with the lightheartedness he’d initially been aiming for but as he looks into her eyes he finds himself becoming increasingly sincere, intent on making her understand that he regrets much of his behavior towards her. “I think you’re the smartest person I’ve met in my life and I have no doubt that you’re a true gift to science. You do what you do to help people and make the world a better place. I’m sorry if I’ve said or done anything to make you question that or yourself.” 

Jemma’s mouth had fallen open during his speech and he swears her eyes are glimmering with moisture by the time he finishes. She blinks quickly, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, and squeezes his hands while giving him a timid smile. He barely hears her soft, “Thank you,” before Skye is patting him on the back, jolting him out of his moment with Jemma, and saying, “That was beautiful. Now go buy us drinks.” 

Fitz quickly puts some space between himself and Jemma, dropping her hands and flexing his under the table in an attempt to get rid of the tingling sensation stemming from his fingertips. He coughs to clear his throat, shooting a glare at Skye who responds with a shrug and a fake look of innocence. “Drinks… right. Same thing?” He points between the downed pink concoction that sits in front of Skye and Jemma’s beer bottle with a raised eyebrow. 

“Actually, I think it’s time for me to call it a night.” Jemma scoots her way to the edge of the booth and Fitz finds that he is incredibly disappointed by the movement. 

Apparently so is Skye. 

“What?! No!!!!! Jemma please stay. I’ve only known you for a few hours but I feel as though I’ve been wrong about Fitz for years and it is actually _you_ who are my true platonic soul mate.” Skye is pouting her lips and giving Jemma the puppy dog eyes that always seem to get Fitz into trouble. 

Jemma’s much stronger than him though and stands up while draining the last of her drink. He does see her falter for a moment as she catches sight of the other girl, and Fitz decides to use the moment of weakness to throw his arm around Skye and put on his own puppy expression in an attempt to double-team her. 

“Yeah Jemma. Don’t go! You’re our soul mate!” 

The blush is instantaneous as Skye immediately falls across the booth in laughter while Fitz’s head hits the table with an audible thud and he repeats the motion over and over. He can feel how red he is and groans at his inability to go five minutes without saying something stupid in front of Jemma. 

When he picks his head back up Jemma is smiling down at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. Fitz opens his mouth to rectify his statement but she just shakes her head with a grin and waves her hand at him dismissively. 

“As tempting as you two are, I really need to get going. Skye, I will gladly accept the role as your platonic soul mate, you have my number so call me anytime you need a break from _this_ _one_. Fitz…” She briefly pauses to stare at him with a look that he can’t quite decipher, “…same goes for you.” 

Jemma gives them one last smile, paired with an affectionate squeeze of Skye’s shoulder, before turning around and getting lost in the crowd of the bar. Fitz gapes after her for a few minutes before turning to Skye, who’s already staring at him and grinning maniacally. 

“Did she just…” 

“Yup.” 

“I didn’t imagine…” 

“Nope.”

“Both of…” 

“Yes.” 

“Skye?” 

“Mmmhmm?” 

“Will you please give me Jemma’s phone number?” 

“ _Maybe…_ if you go get me another drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not this is the beginning of 'up' portion of the roller coaster that is this fic, meaning that Fitz won't have any need to apologize... at least for a few chapters. The next one, "Dress to Impress," shall be posted on Saturday unless I have no self control and end up posting it tomorrow.
> 
> As always, I profusely thank all of you wonderful people who are dropping in to read this humdinger and letting me know what you think about it. Thumbs up emoji for all of you!


	10. Dress to Impress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the first day back to protesting after the weekend, Fitz decides to switch-up his wardrobe (for no particular reason…) and finds himself caught in the hurricane that is his new stylist. AKA the one where Skye is elated because Fitz is finally letting her pick out his clothes.

****

The following Monday has Fitz waking up an hour earlier than normal. Not because he’s nervous to see Jemma again, that would be absurd, he’s seen her every weekday for the past month and today shouldn’t be any different. Despite this, he finds himself taking extra care in picking out today’s clothes. He has what he _thinks_ are two decent outfits lying on his bed and he spends an agonizing ten minutes weighing the pros and cons of each before Skye spots him while walking past his bedroom door and starts laughing. 

“Oh Fitz.” She shakes her head at him and pushes him away before promptly shoving the selected clothing off of the bed with a noise of disgust. She sticks her tongue out and gags as she steps over them on the way to his closet. “Don’t you worry Fitz. I’ve got this.” 

He does worry. He actually worries quite a bit, pacing across the floor of his bedroom and protesting Skye’s teasing that he’s, “Trying to look good for nerd flirting with Simmons.” 

After throwing most of his clothes on the floor Skye turns to him with a smile and holds out a sky blue dress shirt tucked beneath a navy cardigan. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told you to accentuate those baby blues, but guess what? I’m telling you again. _Accentuate those baby blues_ Fitz.” 

He grabs the pieces and snatches the dark jeans that Skye tosses at him on the way to the bathroom. When he walks back out Skye wolf-whistles from her upside down position on his bed. “Looking good Fitz. If I didn’t know you, I’d do you.” 

He outwardly grimaces at this but can’t stop the small part of him from internally hoping that Jemma’s reaction might be similar to his roommate’s. Skye rolls over onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands, and tilts her head while appraising him. “There’s something missing…” 

Fitz stands awkwardly for a few minutes, letting her work out whatever it is she thinks he’s missing, and fiddles with the collar of his shirt. The motion draws Skye’s attention to his hands and she’s suddenly squealing in delight and running back to his closet. She returns with a tie that’s the exact shade of his cardigan and wastes no time looping it around his collar and tying a perfect Windsor. 

She claps her hands after securing the knot and steps back again, twirling her finger in a silent demand for Fitz to turn around. “Hmm…” She taps her finger on her cheek as her eyes roam over his figure and then reaches for his arm, carefully rolling up the sleeves until his forearm is completely visible. She grins at the sight and immediately does the same thing with his other arm, humming all the while. 

He thinks he hears, “Nerd love, nerd love, I love nerd love,” but doesn’t have the energy to deny Skye her fun. 

Once she’s certain the sleeves have been rolled to the same length, Skye steps away and positively beams at him. “Perfect! Oh Fitz you look so good! This is so exciting! I feel like I’ve been waiting our entire friendship for this moment.” 

He bashfully hangs his head and lets his gaze flit towards the mirror to look at Skye’s handiwork. She was right about the eyes thing. His look bluer than usual and he’s sure it has to do with Skye’s choice of tops. He tugs at his ear and can’t stop the nervous butterflies that are trying to escape his stomach. Skye must sense his hesitancy because she loops her arm through his, staring at their reflection in the mirror, and her beam softens into an encouraging smile. “You’ve got this Fitz.” 

He nods in determination and walks towards the apartment door. He reaches for his black hi-tops but stops at Skye’s, “No, no, no!” He looks at her in surprise and she nods her head towards the left, “Wear the white ones.” He shrugs in acquiescence, realizing that Skye is likely smarter than him in this one particular instance. “And roll the bottom of your jeans up a bit.” 

Fitz glances at his watch as he follows her commands and hurries to tie his shoes. He’s only got another minute before it’s his usual departure time and he really doesn’t want to be late today. He grabs his backpack from where it’s leaning against the doorway and reaches for the door handle. As he does he catches sight of himself in the hallway mirror and yelps in horror. 

“What?! What is it?!” Skye looks startled at his panicked expression and her hand is resting over her heart. 

“Oh _hell,_ I forgot to shave!” 

“Oh my god _Fitz_. You almost gave me a heart attack! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Skye’s hand has moved from her heart to her hip and she’s staring at him as though he’s grown two heads in the last minute. 

He groans in response, rubbing at his cheeks and wondering if he has enough time to run back to the bathroom for a quick shave. “Skye this stubble is three days old! I look homeless.” 

“Fitz! Will you _please_ just trust me when I tell you not to worry about it. When Jemma sees you… the _last_ thing she’ll think is that you look homeless.” 

“But…” 

“ _Trust me Fitz.”_  

He eyes her warily but all she does is suggestively move her eyebrows up and down so he takes Skye at her word and trusts that nobody will run away in disgust when they lay eyes on him. 

Skye pushes him towards the door calling out a, “Go get her tiger,” as he makes his way down the hall, and he holds up his middle finger as he walks away. 

Fitz glances at his watch again and realizes that somehow he’d managed to be three minutes late so he takes the stairs two at a time and runs out of the apartment building in an attempt to make it to SciTech at his usual time. He all but sprints down the street, ignoring the startled glances of the people he passes, and doesn’t slow to a normal gait until he’s about two blocks away from SciTech. 

He fidgets nervously as he waits at the crosswalk, bouncing on the balls of his feet and adjusting his tie in apprehension. He stiffens when he sees a familiar head of auburn hair appear at his side in his peripheral vision and quickly drops his hands from where they were fiddling with his collar. 

“Fitz.” 

He smiles at the greeting, the same one they’d exchanged for weeks, that now seems to have an extra inflection that hints at a secret that only they share. 

“Simmons.” 

His eyes glance over to her and she’s staring resolutely across the street but has a small smile on her face that grows when she catches him looking at her. 

“Fancy seeing you here. Accost anybody at their place of work recently?” The words themselves are accusatory but he can hear the lightness of her tone and the smile in her delivery. 

“Not recently enough. Took the time to recharge over the weekend and am now _more_ than ready to confront the questionable practices utilized by the modern scientist. What about you Simmons, ruin the lives of any adorable mice recently?” 

They move together in unison as the glowing WALK sign becomes visible across the street and Jemma chuckles slightly before replying. 

“Why as a matter of fact, yes. The little girl in the apartment next to mine has, _had_ I should say, an _adorable_ little _Mus musculus_ that I felt was squeaking a little too much during my usual sleeping hours. Needless to say… it’s been _more_ than quiet as of late.” 

Fitz gives her an appalled look that has her bursting in laughter and he shakes his head in mock disgust. “How do you sleep at night?” 

“Through the aid of Earl Grey and an enormous bed. How do _you_ sleep at night Fitz?”

“Umm… same way actually.” He blushes a bit at the revelation because, while this had started out as another opportunity for banter, he’s only managed to uncover _another_ thing that he and Jemma have in common. 

She too pauses at this, shooting him a quick look, before facing forward again and humming in contemplation. “Really? Hmm… I guess I just assumed…” 

“Assumed what?” 

“I assumed that you didn’t have a bed with which to sleep _on_ …” 

Fitz gives Jemma a puzzled look at this and a coy smile spreads across her face at the sight. She turns her head again, avoiding his eyes, before finishing her sentence. 

“… what with you being homeless and all.” 

Fitz's mouth drops open at her statement and her small smile grows into a teasing smirk. There’s no way that her choice of word is a coincidence and it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together. 

“I’m going to kill her…” 

Jemma clucks under her breath in amused admonishment. “Murder is a serious crime Fitz, you shouldn’t joke about such things.” 

“I’m not joking. I’m going to absolutely kill her.” 

She laughs at this. “You’re being a tad overdramatic don’t you think?” 

“I didn’t dress up for you.” He says it hastily, barely pausing between words, and stares at her in earnest. The statement may be out of left field but he needs to put it out there as soon as possible to try and counter whatever information Skye had passed along. 

“ _What?_ No of course not.” Jemma turns to him with what looks like a genuinely confused look on her face and for a moment Fitz mentally applauds her acting skills. 

“Seriously, I’m sure Skye told you I was nervous and trying to find something presentable to wear this morning…” 

 _“What?_ Fitz no… _”_  

“… but that’s _only_ because I have plans later that require…” 

“No, no, _Fitz_ she didn’t…” 

“… a more put together ensemble and… wait, what? What do you mean no she didn’t?” 

“Skye didn’t say anything about dressing up. She just asked that, should an opportunity present itself, I tell you that you look homeless.” Jemma is giving him an odd look now and he internally chastises himself for once again revealing too much too soon. 

“Oh… right. Yeah, yeah of course. That sounds like something Skye would do. She knew I was feeling self conscious about… the scruff thing… and was teasing me before I left this morning.” 

“Oh. Well there’s really no need for that. Feeling self-conscious I mean. The scruff…” Jemma coughs a bit and moves her eyes forward as a slight blush covers her cheeks. “The scruff is a good look on you.” 

He feels his own cheeks redden as a warmth blooms across his face and his heart thumps erratically beneath Skye’s selected garments. “Oh… well… thank you.” 

There’s a bit of an awkward silence between them and he thinks he can physically feel the tension that seems to encompass them. He struggles to find something to say and sighs in relief when Jemma beats him to it. 

“Well, anyways, why _are_ you so dressed up today?” 

“Sorry?” 

“You said that you have plans later that required you to dress up. What is it that has gotten you to look so sharp? Other than Skye obviously… I’m sure much of this was her doing.” 

“Oh… I uh…” Fitz panics and mentally scolds himself for the previous lie that now requires a second to back it up. “Umm… I have a date! Yes, a date. With a person. On a date we will be. I’m sure food will be involved.” 

 _Oh god._  

“Oh! I see...” Jemma’s voice is soft but he can hear the disappointment as easily as he would have if she’d spoken in a megaphone. 

 _Disappointment?_  

Fitz’s mind rewinds the past few minutes and he is somewhat stunned to realize that they had _definitely_ been spent with him actively flirting with Jemma. And, as ludicrous as it is, said flirting was almost certainly reciprocated on her end. 

Oh, god, _they had been flirting. They were successfully flirting and then he’d panicked and told her he had a date with someone else. Shit._

He hastily tries to do damage control to make his made up date seem more insignificant. “I don’t actually _want_ to go on this date…” 

“Hmmm…” Jemma is nonchalant and seems to barely acknowledge both his words and his presence. 

“But, you see, I haven’t been on one in awhile… so I figured I should get a bit of practice in, you know? Before I attempt any sort of romantic interaction with you… _know_ , someone I really like. Right?” He prays that Jemma hadn’t caught his slip-up and prays even harder that this entire fiasco won’t blow up in his face and ruin the progress he’s made with her. 

They stop again at a crosswalk, the one closest to SciTech, and she turns to him with a skeptical expression. “So, let me get this straight… You want to date a bunch of _women_ … so that you can eventually date one _woman_?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow and Fitz knows he’s busted. 

“You know… when you say it like that, it sounds a little ridiculous.” 

“Yes Fitz… it does sound ridiculous… it also sounds entirely unbelievable.” 

 _Yup. Definitely busted._  

Jemma faces forward again and Fitz takes the time to observe her profile. He turns in the same direction and moves his hand to his reddening neck. He coughs once and looks straight ahead as he speaks. 

“I don’t have a date.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“I made it all up.” 

“Yes Fitz… I have two PhDs remember? I’m intelligent enough to realize that you made it all up.” They’re walking again, headed towards the crowd of people already gathered in front of SciTech, and he can hear the _why_ that is silently tacked on to the end of Jemma’s sentence. 

He wants to tell her. He really, _really,_ does, but he thinks it’s still a bit to soon in this new dynamic of their relationship to make any professions of crushes. They’re still acquaintances more than anything, one night with Skye didn’t suddenly make them friends, and he doesn’t think it’s the time or the place to admit wanting to look nice for _her_. 

“Hey, Simmons. Jemma?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you think… maybe just this once you can not argue with me, and just, I dunno, pretend that there doesn’t have to be a reason for me to look nice? If I promise to tell you about it later?” 

Jemma looks at him speculatively, caramel eyes boring into his own, and he thinks she’s sizing him up, deciding how best to approach his request. Whatever she sees when she looks at him seems to make the decision for her because after a long moment she resumes walking and he falls into step beside her. “Okay Fitz.” 

Once they’re twenty feet away from the SciTech entrance she speaks again, so softly that he has to physically tilt his head closer to hear. 

“Hey Fitz?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You always look nice.” 

He stops and lets a tentative smile break out over his face and watches as she mirrors the action. They’re grinning at each other and he feels a warmth flood through him until his eyes flit over Jemma’s shoulder and he notices Mack staring at them. The warmth dissipates immediately and he straightens his back at the harsh reminder of whom exactly it is that he’s dopily smiling at. 

Jemma seems to pick up on his sudden shift in mood and glances towards the group of protestors that are eyeing them warily. She sighs softly and her smile turns a bit melancholy before disappearing completely. 

“The real world awaits I suppose. See you when I see you Fitz.” She turns and walks away from him, passing the protestors that are now audibly shaming her and her lab practices, and walks through the doors of SciTech without a backwards glance. 

Fitz sighs in disappointment and mourns the wasted effort that was put into his appearance. He trudges closer to the SHIELD group and hoists one of the signs to begin another day of protesting. He doesn’t notice Mack approach him until the other man is directly beside him.

“You and her… that’s not going to work out man, you know that right?”

Fitz glances back at the SciTech doors that Jemma had disappeared through before taking in the angry faces of the people gathered for the rally. The disappointment inside him grows and he finds himself sighing once more at the screwed up predicament he’s found himself in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of you ask me to become a serial killer because apparently it takes next to nothing for me to succumb to peer pressure... But mostly this was posted today because from here on out the official posting schedule will be Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and posting this chapter today will make sure the fic ends at a good time in my RL schedule.
> 
> Meaning that Chapter 11 'Foiled Again' is coming atcha tomorrow and 12 will pop up sometime on Sunday.
> 
> And many thanks as per usual to all you magnificent individuals who are reading/commenting/kudosing. I've said it before but don't think I've managed to properly articulate how appreciative I am of all of you!!!!


	11. Foiled Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunter reveals one of Fitz's smaller secrets to Jemma and unintentionally spoils his Friday lunch plans.

Instead of actually listening to Mack’s warning, Fitz decides to disregard it completely and continue interacting with Jemma as frequently as possible. He isn’t scheduled to protest SciTech Tuesday through Friday, but he doesn’t let that stop him from meeting Jemma at the crosswalk for the rest of the week. 

Skye smiles every morning when she watches Fitz scurry out of the apartment and laughs ten minutes later every time he walks back in and collapses back asleep. She keeps threatening to tell Jemma that he’s only waking up to meet her on her way to work and, though he knows she’s mostly joking, Fitz does worry that Skye actual _will_ reveal his little secret. 

-O- 

As it turns out, in the end it’s actually _Hunter_ who breaks the news. 

On Thursday morning when Fitz and Jemma near SciTech, they’re so immersed in their conversation that neither notices Hunter slowly making his way towards them with a mischievous smirk. It’s not until the other man throws an arm around each of their shoulders that they take note of his presence. 

Jemma looks somewhat startled by the stranger’s physical proximity but Fitz just groans and shoves the man away from them. “Bloody hell Hunter. What do you want?” 

Hunter gives him a scandalized “who me?” look and places his hand over his heart in mock offense. “I just wanted to say hello to my very good friend and introduce myself to my future even _better_ friend.” He turns to Jemma, who still appears slightly unsettled, and extends a hand in what Fitz is sure the other man _thinks_ is a suave and attractive manner. 

“Hello darling. I’ve got to say, if all of the SciTech employees looked like you… _Nobody_ would be protesting.” 

Jemma’s face changes from perturbation to disgust as she looks down at Hunter’s hand and then back up at his cocky grin. Fitz isn’t at all that upset by Hunter’s rather pathetic pick-up line, it was far more tame than ones he’s heard the other man use in the past, but he _is_ upset by how uncomfortable it’s made Jemma. 

“Jesus Hunter. Will you knock it off!” 

Fitz slaps the other man’s hand away from where it is still outstretched in front of Jemma. He moves so that he is just slightly in front of Jemma, making himself serve as a barrier between her and Hunter. Both Hunter and Jemma roll their eyes at this and Jemma tugs at him until they’re side by side again as Hunter just chuckles and holds his hands up defensively. 

“Oh calm down Fitz, I’m only joking.” The man gives Jemma a warm smile and a wink before turning back to Fitz with a curious look. “What are you even doing here mate? I thought this was your week off?” 

Fitz’s cheeks redden at this and he wants to find a paper bag to shove over his head when he sees Jemma turn to face him. She’s giving him an odd look and he struggles to come up with something that doesn’t make it seem obvious that the only reason he’s awake and at SciTech is because he didn’t want to miss one of their walks. 

Fitz keeps his focus on Hunter, narrowing his eyes at the other man as he vocalizes his excuse. “Uh, yeah… It is my week off. I was just going to pop into the office for a moment.” 

Hunter disregards his pleading look and instead puts on a false face of confusion that Fitz sees through completely. 

“You’re heading to SHIELD office? The SHIELD office that’s in the opposite direction?” Hunter points away from SciTech and Fitz levels him with a glare as Jemma glances between them. “And I could have _sworn_ I saw you here yesterday morning too… Most people don’t wake up and go to work unless they actually _have to_ Fitz.” 

Fitz grits his teeth at this and Hunter’s patronizing expression makes him want to punch the other man in his smug grin. At this point he’s resolutely avoiding Jemma’s eyes because he _knows_ that someone as smart as her has put everything together and likely now realizes that Fitz is a creep whose been waking up for the sole purpose of spending four minutes with her. 

“Yeah well most people don’t have to rely on _Lance Hunter_ to keep everything running smoothly in their absence. I was just stopping by to make sure you were protesting SciTech and not the fact that none of the new female SHIELD recruits have accepted your offer to _take them out for a night on the town._ Wanted to make sure you weren’t mucking up something I’ve spent months organizing. _”_  

Hunter just laughs at this, which irritates Fitz even more. “You’ve got a point mate. Okay well… I’ll see you Monday when you’re actually scheduled to be here. Or hey, maybe I’ll just see you tomorrow when you’re _not_ scheduled.” 

With that Hunter gives him a conspiratorial wink, that couldn’t be more obvious if he’d pointed to his face with every finger, and a mock salute as he turns around and walks away, leaving Fitz alone with Jemma and unsure of what to say. 

He turns to face her and she’s looking at him with a small smile. “I wasn’t aware that protestors were allowed to take time off.” 

“Yeah well… We work in scheduled rotations. Volunteers give their time and can technically work for however long they sign up for but, since SHIELD is an actual organization, members and title holders can’t work more than a certain number of hours a month. Liability issues I guess.” 

Jemma looks a bit surprised by this statement and Fitz realizes that, for as much as he knows about SciTech, Jemma probably knows very little about SHIELD. He wonders how she might react to some of the other protests they’ve been involved in. Now that he thinks about it, she may even support the ones that didn’t directly attempt to sabotage her own place of work. He shakes his head at the thought because it’s still _way_ too soon to be thinking about Jemma in relation to other parts of his life, and continues speaking when he realizes he’s been lost in thought for longer than usual. 

“Anyways, most of the officers will take a day off every week but I like to just lump all of my days together so it’s like a mini-vacation.” Fitz gives her a grin at this and she smiles back at him. His smile falters slightly when Jemma just tilts her head at him and raises an eyebrow in a way that makes him _sure_ that she knows that he hasn’t been waking up to check on Hunter. 

“So you _were_ scheduled for Monday… but technically haven’t needed to wake up to come over here on Tuesday, yesterday, _or_ today. Or tomorrow for that matter.” 

Jemma’s knowing look remains in place and everything about her screams that she is fully aware of what exactly it is that Fitz has been waking up for. More accurately, _who_ it is he’s been waking up for. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he begins to stammer at her statement. 

“Well… I mean… I suppose _technically…”_

“Fitz.” Jemma cuts him off before he can stutter his way through the rest of the sentence. She’s smiling softly at him and he likes the way that it seems as though her eyes are shining just as brightly. If it weren’t for the warm look she’s giving him, he might be slightly hurt by her next words. 

“Go home.” 

He opens his mouth to protest but Jemma just places her hand on his arm, looks at him intently, and continues speaking. “Go home and go back to bed. Take advantage of your time off! And I’d _better_ not see you at that crosswalk tomorrow morning Fitz, or anywhere else for the rest of the day. Relish in your mini-vacation!” 

Fitz _wants_ to tell her that he’d actually been hoping that they could go to TeaTime together tomorrow. He’d already talked to Marta about holding a table for them during the lunch rush but Jemma’s stern voice and chastising look causes the words to stick in his throat. He has a feeling they would have stuck in his throat no matter what though, he’d spent an hour yesterday with Skye practicing how to ask Jemma to lunch and he’s sure he still would have messed it up if he’d been given the opportunity. It was a dumb idea anyway, they’d yet to actually have a positive experience at the little shop and Jemma probably wouldn’t have agreed to it anyways.

So instead of telling Jemma not to boss him around, that if he _wants_ to wake up and meet her before work he will, and if he _wants_ to give up his free afternoon to have English tea with her he will, he bashfully nods his head in acquiescence at her command. 

Jemma smiles up at him and he watches as something shifts in her face. She turns to look up at SciTech before facing him again looking slightly less happy than she did a few moments ago. “Well Fitz, I guess I’ll see you Monday then.” 

She moves to walk away after he nods but then hesitates for a moment as she glances back over at him. She takes a deep breath and steps forward before standing on her toes and placing a quick kiss to his cheek. When she falls back down her smile is back in place but her cheeks have a pink tinge to them. “Thank you for walking me to work Fitz.” 

He’s too shocked to do anything other than nod dumbly in response. She turns and walks towards SciTech and Fitz waits until she disappears through the door to let the enormous grin cross his face. His eyes flit over to the SHIELD tent where Hunter is pointing at SciTech and giving Fitz a thumbs up. 

Fitz gives him the bird as he turns to walk back home. 

-O- 

The next day Fitz wakes up early again and has his jeans halfway up his legs before he remembers that he’s not supposed to meet Jemma for their walk to SciTech. He falls back down on his bed and briefly contemplates whether or not he has any plausible excuse that could allow him to bump into her. He groans at how pathetic he’s become and heads into the kitchen so that instead of moping alone in his room, he can do it in front of Skye while eating breakfast. 

They only make it halfway through their respective bowls of cereal before Skye groans in frustration and lets her head fall against the table. 

Most of the morning follows a similar pattern of Fitz being generally grumpy and Skye growing increasingly irritated by said grumpiness. Eventually she strides into his bedroom, where he’s lying on the floor staring at the ceiling, demands that Fitz _get off his ass_ and come with her so they can have a roommate bonding day to distract him from his pathetic wallowing. 

They make their way over to the museum to look at the aerospace exhibit that Fitz has been trying to convince Skye to come see with him for weeks. He appreciates Skye’s efforts to cheer him up because the exhibit is _genuinely_ fascinating. 

There is a tiny part of him that wonders what Jemma would have to say about all of the technical models and diagrams but he shuts it down quickly because this is a _roommate_ day. Actually, now that he thinks about it, the fact that he and Skye are here right now makes Fitz wonder if he should mope over girls more often just so the roommate bonding days become less Skye-centric and more suited to his own interests. 

They roam around the museum for the rest of the morning, with Skye dragging him to the body exhibit and then promptly dragging him out when he begins to look a little queasy. They find a happy medium in the Gems and Geodes section, shiny things for Skye to look at and interesting fossils for Fitz, and they wander through the maze of rooms happily chatting about everything under the sun. 

A little after 12:30 Fitz feels his phone buzzing in his pocket and he reaches to pull it out. He stares at it for a moment in puzzlement, not recognizing the number. Skye, intrigued by his expression, peers over his arm to look what it is that’s made him so perplexed. She’s focuses intently on the numbers and is silent for a moment before she whoops excitedly directly into Fitz’s ear. 

He’s about to hiss at her about _keeping her voice down_ but she starts talking before he can. “That’s Jemma! That’s her phone number!” 

Fitz can’t exactly confirm or deny her claim because Skye had decided the other night at the bar that if Fitz wanted her to give him Jemma’s number, _he’d have to work for it_. This hadn’t been all that appealing to him because Skye’s first drunken request was a piggy-back ride home, so Fitz decided he’d ask her for it when she was in a slightly less inebriated state. 

He’d forgotten all about it over the course of the week, more interested in actually _talking_ to Jemma than trying to coerce Skye into giving him her number. 

“ _Fitz._ Answer the damn phone!” Fitz blinks at Skye in confusion and thinks that she might just be pranking him about the caller being Jemma. Then he processes the fact she’s grinning excitedly and bouncing on her feet, and realizes that she wouldn’t expend the energy to fake that level enthusiasm for a sub-par joke. 

Still, when he accepts the call he’s extremely tentative as he says, “Hello? 

“Fitz?” 

He grins as Jemma’s voice filters over the speaker and shushes Skye when she starts squealing next to him. 

“Yeah! It’s Fitz. Hi. Hello.” He hears a chuckle on the other end of the line and awkwardly clears his throat in an attempt to make his high-pitched voice seem like it was caused by something other than his excitement at talking to her. 

“Hi, it’s Jemma. I realize you’re wondering how it is that I have your number. I was actually going to call Skye in the hopes she might be with you and then saw that, somehow, your name was already in the ‘Recently Added’ list under my contacts.” 

She pauses for a moment to let him process her words before continuing with a smile in her voice. “At some point you should probably warn Skye about giving away your personal information without your knowledge or consent.” 

Fitz laughs at this because it’s a conversation that he and Skye have actually had on numerous occasions. “Yes that’s something that just doesn’t seem to stick with her. Though, in this case she would have gotten my consent.” 

It’s silent for a moment and Fitz turns a bit red at his admission. He coughs again and quickly speaks into the receiver in an attempt to brush over his last statement. “Was there… Can I… Did you need something from me?” 

It’s still silent on the other end of the line and Fitz holds his breath, wondering if perhaps she’d hung up, before sighing in relief as he hears Jemma speak. 

“Yes actually. I’m at TeaTime now and I was wondering if you knew anything about the table that Marta said was reserved for me?” 

Fitz feels the blood drain from his face as he realizes that he’d never told Marta about the change of plans for today. 

_Shit._  

“Oh… Oh! Umm… I don’t… I mean… Nope.” His panicked stutter has Skye giving him a look that makes him realize pretty quickly how utterly ridiculous and unbelievable he sounds. 

“Fitz…” Jemma sounds just as dubious as he’d expected her to. 

“Honest Simmons. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He wants to groan at himself because his voice is still uncharacteristically high and his words come out so quickly that he’d be surprised if _anyone_ were to believe what he’s saying. He opens his mouth again but stops the moment Jemma’s voice reaches his ears again. 

“Marta already told me that you asked her to hold it Fitz.” 

_Damn you Marta. Guess who’s bringing Skye in next week._

Fitz isn’t really sure how he can get himself out of this situation, clearly lying is pointless since there are spies everywhere who are feeding Jemma information, so he decides to just turn the questions around on her instead. “Oh… well. Okay then. If you already knew that then why are you asking?” 

It’s silent for another moment and he wonders what exactly it is that Jemma is clearly psyching herself up to say. “She said you’d implied that _you_ would be _with_ me. 

His face turns bright red again and he slowly begins to smack his head with the hand that isn’t cradling his cellphone. “What? No! Well I mean _maybe…_ I guess… I guess I could see how she would _think_ that. I’m sure she just didn’t understand what I was getting at.” 

“You asked her to save us the table before I told you I’d better not see you today, didn’t you?” 

_She’s got you._  

Fitz is silent for a brief moment before he finally just sighs and confesses. 

“I… well… yeah I did.” There’s really no sense in denying it because the inflection of Jemma’s voice is a clear indicator that she’d had his metaphorical number before she’d called his physical one. It’s silent for a few moments and Fitz squeezes his eyes shut. He’s not sure if his admission was a good call on his part and worries that it’s only served as yet another red flag for Jemma. 

“Next week Fitz.” 

There’s something in Jemma’s voice that makes her words sound like a promise and Fitz lets a smile cross his face, as the tension seems to drain from his body 

“Next week.” 

He tries to sound confident with his reply, nodding his head despite the fact that Jemma can’t actually _see_ him, but he’s actually on the verge of a total freak-out. He sees Skye bouncing up in down and waves her off because _her_ enthusiasm is distracting him from his _own_ excitement. 

It’s silent for another moment before Jemma speaks again and Fitz is _convinced_ that she’s smiling too. “All right, it’s settled. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to take advantage of this lovely table and eat my weight in scones. Enjoy whatever it is Skye has forced you into doing on your day off.” 

“I will. Bye Simmons.” 

The line goes dead and Fitz pulls his phone away from his ear in disbelief. He stares at the small device in incredulity before raising his head to see Skye dancing in front of him in celebration. 

“We did it Fitz! Now lets get out of this stuffy museum and go do something fun to celebrate!” 

He laughs at Skye’s display and nods his head in acquiescence, the smile not dropping from his face. Skye grabs his hand and begins tugging him in the direction of the exit. 

“Hang on.” 

Fitz’s feet come to an abrupt halt and he punches at his phone a few times in concentration. When he’s done his grin returns and his heart begins to thump erratically in his chest. He takes one last look at the screen before shoving it into his pocket, smiling at the newest contact added to his phone.

_Jemma Simmons._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunter's pick-up line is probably my favorite piece of dialogue in this whole thing because it's equal parts smarmy and just so, so, sad.
> 
> And the next chapter, "A Plumber Does Not an Engineer Make," is one of my favorites in terms of blushing FitzSimmons and shipper Skye. That sucker shall be posted at some point tomorrow so... keep your eyes peeled I guess.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to those of you who are sticking with this thing! It's greatly appreciated on my end :)


	12. A Plumber Does Not An Engineer Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz attempts to do some manual labor and it ends with him revealing a bit of his past to Jemma.

When Saturday morning comes around he hears the door of his bedroom creak open and groans at the sound. “Fitz!” Skye’s hiss seems to reverberate throughout the room and he groans again in response, not yet cognizant enough to form actual words. 

“Just wanted to let you know that I’m going out shopping. I’ll probably be gone all day but if you need anything I have my cell. Also… I think the sink’s plumbing is acting up again, it’s leaking a bit, so if you could work your magic on it… that’d be a good way to spend your day. Okay bye!” 

Fitz contemplates yelling after her to remind her for the umpteenth time that he’s not a plumber but instead snuggles deeper into his pillow and opts for a few more hours of sleep. 

When Fitz officially rouses from his slumber, it’s just reaching noon so he makes his way over to _Lola’s Diner_ and spends an hour chatting to its owner. Like Marta, Mr. Coulson had grown rather fond of Fitz once the younger man had fixed the old jukebox in the corner of the restaurant. Today Fitz leaves the diner with a smile on his face and a chocolate milkshake in hand, payment for setting up the new TV that Phil had ordered to watch the classic car special airing later that night. 

He wanders around their neighborhood for a few hours, nodding his head at the storeowners he’s met before and waving amiably at the new arrivals to the block. He’s in a buoyant mood, quite the juxtaposition from early yesterday, because he’s one day closer to seeing Jemma again. It’s silly and he feels a bit like a schoolboy with a crush but nobody’s here to judge him so he just lets the giddiness overwhelm him. He even picks up some of Skye’s favorite chocolates from the little shop run by Mrs. Weaver, simply because he can. 

When he makes it back to the apartment Skye still hasn’t returned home so he decides to tack on fixing the sink to the small list of nice things he’s doing for her today. He grabs his toolkit from his bedroom, pausing at the doorway to remove his button down and toss it onto the bed, and then makes his way into the kitchen. He stops for a moment, feeling as though he’s forgetting something, before shaking his head and continuing forward, determined to complete his designated task. 

Fitz opens the cabinet beneath the sink and climbs into the small space, legs sticking out into the kitchen, arms crammed against pipes, and head jammed against the drywall. He turns on his small flashlight and sticks it in his mouth so that both of his hands will be free to work. 

His eyes roam over the pipes, looking for what might be causing the problem, before landing on a small valve that seems to drip every half-minute. It’s not a serious issue now but it’ll no doubt cause damage down the line so Fitz reaches for his wrench with the intention of fixing the problem. 

Fitz uses the wrench to twist at the small valve, _righty tighty,_ and…

The pipe immediately bursts. A stream of freezing water instantly drenches him and he smacks his head on the pipe as he struggles to avoid the liquid. “Oh _fuck.”_ He’s stuck under the sink and can’t see much of anything since the water is still gushing in his eyes and soaking every inch of him. He now realizes that what he’d forgotten to do earlier was _turn the damn water off_ and curses under his breath at his momentary lapse in common sense. Fitz reasons that, at this point, he really can’t get any wetter, so he decides to stick it out and fix the problem while he’s still down here. 

He squints his eyes, using one of his hands to prevent the water from hitting him in the face, and adjusts his grip on the wrench as he twists the same valve until it’s back in its original position. The water has died to a slow drip and he sighs in relief at the fact that he is no longer stuck under a mini waterfall. 

The relief disappears immediately when he hears the front door open and Skye’s voice ring out through the apartment. 

“…I’m telling you, it looked _so_ good on you. _Definitely_ worth the money. I’m going to call for the pizza now, are you sure you’re good with cheese? Okay. FITZ!!! I’M ORDERING PIZZA, WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” 

“ _Fitz_?” 

His entire body jerks upright at the familiar lilt of the second voice and he slams his head against the bottom of the sink with an audible, and _painful,_ thud. 

“ _FUCK!”_

He groans as his body falls back down against the floor and he clutches his head with a grimace. He thinks he feels liquid and briefly worries that he might be bleeding until he remembers that his entire body is completely soaked from the sink. It was likely just water that he felt on his face.

“Fitz?” Skye’s voice is nearer than it was before and he scrambles to pull himself out from under the cabinet beneath the sink. He stands up quickly and then just as quickly clutches his head as he’s overcome by a slight feeling of dizziness. 

“Fitz what are… oh my god.” He looks up at the sound of Skye’s voice and is met with the sight of her and Jemma standing in the kitchen and staring at him with matching expressions of shock. It takes him a second to realize that neither of them are looking at where his hands are cradling his head. Instead, both pairs of eyes are focused on his torso, where the shirt he’s wearing is clinging uncomfortably to his body. 

Fitz follows their eyes down and groans as he realizes that the normally white undershirt he’d thrown on this morning is now entirely transparent. His cheeks redden and one of his hands moves to tug the material away from his body in an attempt to make his chest less visible. The motion only serves to make him realize how damn _tight_ the wife-beater is because the second he releases the material it gravitates back to his chest, seemingly clinging to him even tighter than before. 

His cheeks flush in embarrassment and when he returns his eyes to Skye and Jemma he is completely mortified. Skye is holding her hand in front of her face struggling not to laugh and Jemma is just staring at him with her mouth slightly open. Her own cheeks seem just as flushed as his and her eyes are focused on the wet fabric that is plastered to his torso. This of course makes him blush even harder and desperately hope for a quick escape. The room is silent until Skye whips out her phone and Fitz steps forward in warning as he hears the shutter of her camera. 

“ _Skye…”_  

The girl holds up her finger to stop him before looking down at her phone.

“Oh hang on, I’ve got to take this.” Skye makes a show of putting the _clearly_ silent phone to her ear before pulling it away, covering the receiver with her hand, and looking back at him in seriousness. “Hey Fitz, Miami Spring Break called to congratulate you on winning this year’s wet t-shirt contest. They want to know if you’re also interested in participating in the whipped cream bra competition…” 

He growls and lunges forward, removing his hand from his head in a desperate bid to snatch the phone from Skye’s grasp. The movement seems to snap Jemma out of her reverie because he hears her gasp and turns to look at her. Her eyes are no longer locked on his chest and are instead focused on his head. 

“Oh shit, Fitz you’re bleeding!” Skye’s no longer laughing at his expense and is instead worriedly moving towards him as she looks at his head in concern. 

He swats her hand away, noting the red liquid on his palm, and glances at his reflection in the mirror above the oven. There’s a decent sized gash above his left eyebrow and he feels himself grow slightly woozy at the sight. “Oh bloody hell.” 

Fitz’s reflection is quickly joined by Jemma’s and he sees her mirrored self reach for his face just before he feels her hand grasp his chin and tilt his head in her direction. She stands on her toes to get a better look before clucking under her breath and grabbing his hand to lead him to the kitchen table. Jemma pushes him onto one of the chairs and steps between his legs as she tilts his head and peers clinically at his wound. 

Fitz’s breath catches in his throat at her proximity and he can’t help leaning slightly into the palm that is resting gently on his cheek. He winces when her thumb brushes over a tender spot on his forehead and groans as he realizes that, in addition to the bleeding lesion, he’d also likely gotten a fairly large bump. Jemma’s hand pulls away at his sharp inhalation and he immediately misses her touch. 

“Skye?” Jemma turns to the other girl who is hovering a few feet away and looking both worried and oddly excited. “Do you have any sort of first-aid kit in the apartment?” 

Skye nods her head and bolts out of the room, no doubt headed for the bathroom where the rather pathetic ‘first aid kit’ is stashed in the cupboard. 

Jemma’s eyes move back to him and her fingers return to his head. Her thumb is prodding gently at his forehead which means that her other fingers are woven through his hair. Fitz quite likes the feeling and has to consciously prevent himself from purring in contentment. She seems to take note of his enjoyment because her fingers slowly scratch at his head while the hand on his chin shifts slightly to graze his cheek. 

It’s silent for a few moments before Jemma speaks quietly. “I didn’t know you and Skye were roommates.” She says it quickly and somewhat defensively. Fitz isn’t sure what it is she has to be defensive about so he decides that the best way to understand it is simply to ask. 

“What?” 

“You and Skye. She invited me over to look through our purchases. I didn’t know you… I wouldn’t have…” Jemma sighs and shakes her head as she stumbles over words Fitz isn’t sure are really all that necessary. “I just meant that I would have… I don’t know, given you some sort of heads up if I’d known? I don’t… I don’t want to infringe on this part of your life as well.” 

“What? Oh I don’t care about that. Infringe all you want!” He’d listened to her explanation with growing confusion until she’d reached the end and Fitz hastily tries to make Jemma understand that she has no reason to be wary of him… in this one particular instance. 

“It’s just… We seem to have come to a tentative truce and, well, the last time that happened we ended up in a bigger fight than before. I just don’t want to overstep any boundaries and potentially trigger another argument.” 

Fitz winces, both at her words and the firm press of her thumb against his forming bruise, and opens his mouth to inform her of his own desire to maintain their tentative rapport. Before he can utter a single word Skye comes barreling in with what is essentially an old lunchbox that she and Fitz had slowly filled with anything remotely resembling things one may find in a genuine first-aid kit. 

Jemma takes a step back from him and he instantly feels a chill run through his body. It was easy to ignore how freezing he is when Jemma was standing so close and making his body flush, but now that she’s hunched over the table searching for the proper equipment to treat his wound, Fitz becomes fully aware of the fact that his clothes are _very_ wet and equally cold. He begins to shiver and Skye must notice because she bolts from the room again before returning a few moments later with one of his warm flannels. He takes it gratefully but just as he begins to tug it on, Skye rips it from his grasp and stares at him incredulously. 

“Fitz, why would you put this on _over_ your soaking wet clothing?” 

He looks at her as though she’s grown another head because, as far as he’s aware, the answer to that question is rather obvious. “Because… it’s dry… and I’m cold?” 

“Yeah exactly, putting this on over your wet clothes will only serve to make _this_ wet too. Take off that shirt and put on this one.” 

“What, no!” 

“Why not?! What are you being so weird for?” 

Fitz’s eyes flit over to Jemma who seems to be intently focused on reading the back label of the Neosporin. He’s sure that she likely already knows every ingredient and side effect of it and is likely just giving herself something to do to avoid getting in the middle of his and Skye’s squabble. Fitz bugs his eyes out at Skye and jerks his head towards Jemma, silently trying to get his roommate to realize why exactly he doesn’t wish to disrobe in their kitchen. 

Skye follows his gaze and just rolls her eyes at him, mouthing, “Don’t be a baby,” before thrusting the flannel back in his direction. 

Fitz huffs in annoyance and snatches the warm shirt from Skye’s hands. He can feel himself flushing again and reasons that the sooner he does this, the sooner it’ll be over. He turns around with a grumble and quickly yanks the soaked tank off of his body. He hears it land with a loud slap against the tile floor but, to him, the click of Skye’s camera phone is even louder. Fitz whirls around with a growl and steps towards his soon to be ex-best friend. “Skye!” 

The moment he turns around he regrets it because Skye’s eyes widen in delight and she begins clapping gleefully. “I _knew_ it. I _knew_ you had a tattoo!” 

Jemma’s head snaps up at this in surprise and her eyes zero in on the thin black lines that he’d spent one drunken night having drawn on his body. 

Skye steps closer with her hand outstretched and Fitz smacks it away with a red face. He hastily shrugs the flannel over his shoulders and buttons it up quickly in an attempt to prevent Skye from getting a closer look. He looks at Skye with daggers and does his best not to notice the way that Jemma’s eyes had followed every movement of his hands. 

Skye looks only marginally apologetic, which isn’t enough for Fitz and he makes it known as he grabs the phone from her loose grip and deletes her recent photos. She stares at the small device in disappointment when he hands it back to her, looking forlornly at her smaller camera roll before sighing in defeat and looking up at him with a contrite nod. 

Fitz is still irritated with her but acknowledges that it’s not really the time or the place to start this argument. He sits himself back on the chair he’d recently vacated and twiddles his thumbs as Skye seats herself at the other side of the table and Jemma steps closer to him with her hands full of gauze and Bacitracin. 

Jemma takes a wet towel to his forehead, gently cleaning away the blood before tilting his chin upwards so that no more drips down his face. He watches out of the corner of his eye as her hands methodically grab the necessary supplies from the table and move to his head. 

Jemma works silently, Fitz _sits_ silently, and Skye taps her fingers on the table in a steady beat. 

Fitz knows that the silence won’t last long and isn’t surprised when Skye leans forward across the table to gaze imploringly at him. “Please let me ask one question and then I will _never_ bring it up again. I promise, promise, _promise.”_  

Fitz wants to deny her the request because he’s still slightly furious with what she’d done. The anger subsides at the feeling of Jemma’s hands on his face and he becomes lost in a haze that leaves him slightly disoriented. This works in Skye’s favor because, after a moment, he sighs in defeat and twitches his hand in her general direction to give her the go ahead. 

“What is it?” 

Fitz could tell her that the tattoo is one of the more important things in his life but he thinks Skye is asking for the more literal answer. It’s not him who gives it though 

“Schematics.” Jemma’s voice is quiet but to Fitz it sounds as though she’s speaking into a microphone. 

Fitz blinks up at her in surprise and, when she catches his gaze, Jemma blushes slightly and immediately returns her eyes to focus on where her hands are gently cleaning the cut on his head. Jemma coughs slightly in embarrassment and mutters an, “I think,” softly under her breath. Fitz nods slowly at this, not wanting to do anything to disrupt her treatment but entirely unable to form words. 

“Oooooh. Schematics of what?” Skye is grinning eagerly at him across the table and he gives her a sarcastic smirk. 

“Nice try Skye. I gave you your one question. Go order the pizza.” 

The girl falls back into her seat with a disappointed sigh before snatching her phone from the table, standing up, and walking into the living room to place the order. 

Fitz and Jemma are alone again and he’s too distracted by the way she uses her shoulder to push the hair from her face, as her hands are steady on his forehead, to come up with a conversation topic. It’s silent as she uses a strip of gauze to apply the Bacitracin and he lets his eyes flutter closed so she won’t catch him staring at her lips. 

His eyes blink open when she inhales slowly. 

“It’s yours, isn’t it? The design.” Jemma’s staring thoughtfully at him and, looking up at her, Fitz suddenly feels incredibly small. 

He nods slowly in confirmation, once again stunned by Jemma’s perceptiveness. “First thing I patented. 

“First thing?” 

“There have been… a few since. But that one’s special.” 

Jemma stares pensively at him and, for some reason, he feels as though she might be the only person who could possibly understand the significance. After a moment her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. 

“Oh my god…” She looks at him in slight shock and takes a step back, letting her eyes roam over his face in astonishment. 

“What, what is it?!” He’s a bit nervous at the way she’s looking at him and he’s worried that he’s somehow managed to say or do something in the past few minutes to alarm her. Apparently he hadn’t because in the next moment she steps closer to him with a bright grin. 

“ _Leopold_ Fitz! I didn’t even process your name when Skye was teasing you last week. Your delivery mechanism is in half of the equipment I use in my lab! I can’t believe I’m just now putting it together!” Jemma laughs at this and just stares at him in slight wonder. 

He feels his face heat up and hopes that Jemma isn’t aware that more than _one_ of his designs is currently being used by SciTech. He feels a flare of anger surge through him at the thought but it’s tempered almost immediately when he looks back at Jemma’s unwavering smile. 

Fitz just shrugs his shoulders, which draws another laugh from her. She steps back between his legs and begins placing the butterfly bandages across the cut above his eyebrow. “Have you done anything recently? Design-wise I mean, I used to read about the stuff you were doing but haven’t heard anything in _years_.” 

He shakes his head ruefully at this. “No I… I did some work for a company and… Well, the contract I signed basically gave them the rights to all of my stuff. So I suppose I actually _had_ been designing things, just wasn’t getting the credit for any of it. And then when we parted ways I found out that there was a non-compete clause in my contract so… I haven’t really been able to find another job in the field. Still have another year before I can technically start patenting things but… I dunno… It was such a horrible experience that it kind of took the joy out of it for me.” 

Jemma hums sympathetically at this, likely having experienced something similar at one point during her time in the field, and Fitz is again struck by the ease at which she seems to understand him. 

“Anyways, after leaving the company, I took some time for myself and then ended up meeting Mack and joining SHIELD. I was in a slightly rough place so I just put everything I had into the organization. I still have a pretty steady income from the stuff that I’d designed and sold so… I’ve basically just spent the past few years focusing all of my energy into SHIELD and… and the SciTech protests.” 

Jemma listens intently before chuckling slightly at the last part of his statement. He glances up and watches her eyes stare intently at the bandages on his head. They’re still that same shade of rich caramel and there’s a brightness in them that leaves him winded. She stares at the dressing for another moment before her eyes lock on his and she grins down at him. “There, should be proper now.” 

Fitz smiles in thanks at her and she nods her head in response. Their positions haven’t changed, she’s still standing above him looking down, but for some reason he now feels larger than life. 

-O- 

The three of them end up finishing the night sitting around the coffee table in the living room eating pizza. Fitz graciously offers Jemma his usual seat on the couch and stretches out on the floor to enjoy his dinner. Both he and Jemma pretend that they don’t hear Skye mumble, “You never offer to sit on the floor when _I_ want the couch,” and instead focus on not making eye contact and keeping their gazes on the neutral territory that is Skye and their respective slices of pizza. 

There’s a clear tension in the room but Fitz finds that he prefers it to the one that _used_ to surround him and Jemma. Unlike the stifling tension of before, this one is more like a constant undercurrent of crackling electricity. 

Skye does most of the talking with Fitz and Jemma chiming in occasionally to make sure she knows that she’s still got their attention. After finishing his third slice, Fitz becomes all too aware of the pounding headache that seems to be crushing his skull. He can feel the blood throbbing where he’d whacked his head and he is overcome with a need for sleep so he hoists himself off the ground, which immediately causes Skye to stop mid-sentence. 

“I’m really sorry, I just feel as though someone took a semi-truck to my skull. I think I’m going to turn in.” 

Skye and Jemma both give him a worried look but it’s only the latter’s whose is combined with what seems like a flicker of disappointment. He gives the girls a small smile in an attempt to lessen their worry but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re alright?” It’s Skye who asks the question but it only takes one glance at Jemma’s face to know that she too is inquiring, albeit silently. 

Fitz just nods slowly and makes sure to make his smile a bit more convincing. “Yup. Nothing some Advil and sleep won’t fix. Skye, I’ll see you tomorrow. Jemma, I’ll see you Monday.” 

He gives them a small wave before walking in the direction of bedroom. He makes it about five feet past the couch before he stops suddenly, struck with an idea and a rare bout of courage, and turns around to face the girls again. 

“Hang on, Skye are we still doing drinks with Trip next Friday?” 

His roommate shifts around on the couch and peers at him curiously. “Yes… Unless we break up between now and then… which is the opposite of likely.” 

Fitz chooses to focus on the first part and completely disregards the second since it’s irrelevant to his reason for asking. He turns to face Jemma and spits out the words that the SHIELD side of him has spent the entire night trying to keep locked away. “You should come.” 

Jemma’s mouth drops open in surprise and she glances between Fitz, who looks both nervous and serious, and Skye who is grinning and bouncing in enthusiasm. “Oh _yes_ Jemma, please come! Please, please, come! I’ll introduce you to Trip and we can all just chill and have fun, and I’ll finally have another girl to balance out the alleged testosterone of Fitz and Trip. Please don’t leave me with the boys!” 

Jemma glances towards Fitz again and this time when he smiles it’s a true grin that seems to encompass his entire face. She stares at him for a few moments before tentatively smiling herself. “Sure. That sounds nice.” She’s looking at Skye when she says it but Fitz knows that she’s speaking to him. 

Skye of course squeals in delight and launches into a plan of attack for Friday. Fitz watches them for a moment and then turns to resume his journey to his room. He only takes one step before he hears two voices call his name. 

He turns around and is greeted with the sight of both Skye and Jemma peering at him over the couch. He quirks an eyebrow at them when they remain silent and it seems to do the trick because Jemma smiles softly at him. “Goodnight.” 

His eyes flit from her to Skye, who gives him a wink and blows him an overdramatic kiss. He shakes his head and chuckles softly at the display before giving the girls another wave and his own, “Goodnight.” 

Fitz collapses onto his bed with a grin and is asleep before his head even hits the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorites simply because it's just so ludicrous and tropey and blushing FitzSimmons are my favorite. Also we're getting some pretty heavy hints about pre-SHIELD Fitz that will get progressively more detailed and obvious as we progress.
> 
> Next chapter shall be posted sometime on Tuesday and will have FitzSimmons attempting lunch for the 4th time.
> 
> Thanks as always to those of you who are reading and commenting! Hopefully when the angst kicks up a notch (not for a bit)... you'll still stick around.


	13. Let's Do Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Jemma finally have that lunch.

Fitz spends the majority of Sunday sleeping and, at one point, he wakes up to find Skye sitting on his bed and grinning down at him. He groans at the sight and rolls over slightly on his side, lifting up his shirt so that she can get a closer look at his tattoo. She doesn’t touch it, which Fitz is grateful for, but she moves so close that he half expects to feel her nose smushed across his ribs at one point. Once she’s examined it to her liking, she pats his head and curls up at the foot of his bed for a nap. 

When they’re both awake and fully cognizant in the afternoon they decide that the only thing they’re willing to do is watch Netflix and order take-out. They laze around the apartment for the rest of the day and Skye finds every opportunity she can to mention Jemma. 

_Jemma looked so pretty in the top she bought yesterday._

_Jemma was so sweet to patch up his injury for him._

_How long do you think Jemma stared at his chest to be able to figure out that his tattoo was a schematic?_

_Is he excited to see Jemma tomorrow?_

_Jemma. Jemma. Jemma._

He groans each and every time her name is mentioned and Skye laughs immediately in response, as she tells him how fun it is to make him blush. 

-O- 

On Monday morning Fitz all but runs to the crosswalk. He spots Jemma the second she rounds the corner and a grin immediately makes its way across his face. Jemma looks up eagerly and when her eyes meet his she beams at him and wiggles her fingers in greeting. 

He bounces on the balls of his feet as he waits for her to walk the thirty feet from the corner to him and only stills when she’s within reaching distance. It’s as if simply being in her orbit is enough to calm him. On the other hand, the closer she is the quicker his heart thumps and the faster the butterflies seem to beat against his stomach. 

“Fitz.” 

“Simmons.” 

They smile for a moment before he decides to be bold and hold his arm out to her. She stares at it in shock for a few terrifying seconds and he almost pulls it back but then she beams up at him as she reaches forward to place her hand in the crook he’d made for her. 

They walk to SciTech in a companionable silence, both apparently too distracted by their points of contact to come up with a conversation topic. Fitz thinks he holds his breath the entire walk over and only releases it when he sighs in disappointment at the sight of SciTech. Jemma slowly extracts her hand from his arm before they reach the SHIELD group and, while he appreciates the gesture since it’ll prevent him from having to explain anything, he immediately wishes that they’d had a bit more of the physical contact. Maybe tomorrow he’ll walk slower so that they have a few extra seconds. 

When they part ways she gives him a small wave that he returns with a smile. 

-O- 

On Tuesday Jemma beats him to the crosswalk and is bouncing on her toes in excitement. He thinks he knows exactly what it is that she’s so animated about because at the exact same time they both shout: “Did you read the latest Popular Science?!” 

They chat animatedly about the article they’d read on the hovercraft prototype that had been tested a few weeks ago and, though both of their gazes flit to the other’s hand, neither makes a move to grab hold. 

They make it to SciTech a bit slower than they had the day before, which causes Fitz to grin in triumph. The grin falters when he catches sight of Mack staring at him and Jemma over the heads of the other protestors. Jemma notes the way that his body tenses and she casts a glance in the direction he’s looking. She stares for a long moment before turning back to Fitz with an apologetic look and a mumbled, “I’m so sorry.” 

He’s about to ask her what on earth she has to be sorry about when her hand makes contact with his cheek. Fitz gapes at her in confusion and she steps closer with an angry face that completely contrasts with her, “I’m so sorry! Oh god. I thought if he saw me hit you and look angry _he_ might give you _his_ angry look less frequently. Oh please don’t be mad!” 

Fitz wants to burst out in laughter because _how is this his life now,_ but instead steps forward and stands over Jemma with his own look of irritation as he hisses, “We’re good. I appreciate the effort but next time maybe just yell and storm off.” 

Jemma bites her lip to fight the grin that’s threatening to break free and Fitz finds himself completely distracted by the movement. 

“Yes okay… see you tomorrow. WHY DON’T YOU GET A REAL JOB AND QUIT FOLLOWING ME!” Jemma yells the last statement as she stomps away from him and Fitz is proud to see that she’s gotten a bit better at lying since their incident with Marta a few weeks ago. 

-O- 

On Wednesday morning they both walk up to their standard meeting place at the same exact time and proceed to laugh at the fact that it’s the first time that such a thing has happened. He wants to give her his arm again but both of her hands are wrapped around her bag strap so he tucks his own into his pockets. They head in the direction of SciTech and Fitz has to physically restrain himself from _accidentally_ brushing his arm against hers as they swing by his side. 

“Skye sent me a rather odd text this morning.” Jemma breaks the silence with the vague statement and Fitz is immediately put on high alert. 

“Oh god… Do I even want to know?” 

“It wasn’t anything bad! Just peculiar I suppose… I have no idea what it means.” 

She’s still being rather ambiguous and Fitz feels himself grow more and more suspicious with each word. “Hmmm… All right. I’ll help you decode. I’ve dealt with Skye’s cryptic messages before.” 

Jemma reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone, clicking through it for a few moments before handing it to Fitz. He looks down at the picture Skye had sent and it only takes a second for him to realize what it is. He groans in embarrassment and mutters silent curses under his breath. Jemma stifles a laugh and he shoves the phone back at her in an attempt to get his 2nd grade yearbook photo as far away from him as possible. 

“That’s just cruel Simmons. And I think it’s time I remind Skye that I have just as much embarrassing dirt on her.” 

Jemma raises her eyebrow at this and Fitz knows that _she_ knows that what he’d said is a total lie. “All right… maybe not _quite_ as much… but enough that she should be worried.” 

Jemma grins at this and they walk in silence for a few minutes before her eyes widen and she turns to him. “Oh I completely forgot to tell you! I have an all day conference on Friday.”

Fitz isn’t really sure what she’s getting at until he realizes that she’s likely implying that she’ll be too exhausted to do anything after work. He feels a surge of disappointment run through him at her words. “So… you want me to tell Skye that you can’t make it to bar night?” 

Jemma’s head whips towards him in confusion until she realizes what it is he’d thought she meant when she told him about the conference. “What? No! I just…” 

Her head suddenly snaps forward again and Fitz thinks he sees her cheeks redden. This of course piques his curiosity so he leans towards her and nudges her with his elbow. “Jemma…?” 

Her cheeks grow even redder but she’s grinning somewhat mischievously as she turns back to face him. “I mean… I realize neither of us has mentioned anything since last week but… I figured that I should let you know that I can’t do lunch Friday… you know, in case you were planning on bribing Marta to save a table again.” 

Fitz’s eyes narrow playfully at her remark and he’s about to respond when Jemma’s smile suddenly drops and she looks worriedly at him. “Not… Not that I’m _assuming_ you’d do that. Or that you’d even _want_ to have lunch… I just… With the mix-up last week I figured I should…” 

Fitz doesn’t let her keep going because the moment he realizes that she’d _maybe_ thought that they might have lunch together at TeaTime, he decides to find the courage to pitch a new idea that he’d been contemplating for awhile. “Okay. Well what about tomorrow?” 

Jemma looks at him in confusion. “What?” 

Fitz’s own cheeks redden slightly but he straightens his back and looks at her with what he _hopes_ is a confident expression on his face. “Can you do lunch tomorrow?” 

Jemma’s mouth falls open and she stares at him in surprise for a few seconds before nodding her head slowly. “Oh. Umm… Yes. Yes I can.” 

Fitz nods his head with a small smile and faces forward to excitedly tell her about his idea. “Okay cool. It’s supposed to be nice out and they’re doing that outdoor art exhibit at the park… I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it. So… I dunno... we could do a picnic type thing and check it out…” 

“Yes.” 

“Or, if you’re not into that, we could just go to TeaTime instead and… what?” Fitz turns to Jemma quickly as he realizes that she’s already agreed to his pitch. 

She’s smiling enthusiastically at him and nodding her head eagerly. “I know exactly which art exhibit you’re talking about and lunch in the park sounds fun.” 

“Oh… Great! Okay great then it’s a date.” Fitz’s eyes immediately bug out of his head at the words and he quickly tries to rectify his slip of the tongue. “Oh god… I didn’t mean… Not a _date,_ date.” 

Jemma laughs at Fitz’s frantic hand movements and red face. “Fitz, don’t worry. I know what you meant.” She gives him another smile and it makes him feel slightly less embarrassed. He notices the way her expression shifted slightly at his emphatic _not a date_ and briefly wonders if their tentative interactions of late meant that he could have just stuck with his original intention of it _actually being a date._

Fitz feels slightly disappointed for a moment but then decides that this lunch is already an enormous step in the direction that he _hopes_ he and Jemma are heading towards. It’ll be a dry run of sorts and he’s determined to makes sure that tomorrow’s lunch goes better than every fiasco they’d dealt with at TeaTime. 

-O-

Fitz wakes up late on Thursday morning and groans because _really? Today of all days?_ He quickly sends Jemma a text informing her of the situation and letting her know not to bother waiting for him at the crosswalk. He worries that may be seen as a bad sign so he immediately follows the first text with another telling Jemma that he’ll meet her at the side entrance of SciTech for lunch. He adds a winking smiley face and hovers his thumb over the send button, contemplating whether the emoji is too much or too stupid, before deciding to just go for it and clicking send. 

Not twenty seconds later he gets a reply: a thumbs up, the classic smiley face, and a small picnic basket emoji. He smiles at the little pictures before bellowing for Skye. She runs into his room looking panicked and promptly grabs a pillow to smack over his head when he asks her to help him pick out an outfit again. 

\-- 

At 12:30 Jemma meets him at the side entrance of SciTech with a bright grin. He returns it eagerly and hoists his backpack further up his shoulders. It's laden with drinks, utensils, and a variety of paper cups and plates. When they'd divided up responsibilities the day before it hadn't taken Jemma long to deduce that Fitz, though quite adept at _eating_ food, couldn't be counted on to create any sort of decent spread. So he'd been delegated with the task of bringing all of the necessary non-food related items and she'd taken it upon herself to bring the actual meal. 

“Fitz.” He laughs at the traditional greeting and responds in kind. 

“Simmons.” 

He promptly grabs the bag that she’s holding, lifting his eyebrows at the weight, and shifts it to his other hand so that he can crook his arm for her. Her surprise at his taking the bag off her hands quickly transforms into a blush and she grasps his arm with a small smile of appreciation. 

He opens his mouth a few times in an attempt to spur some sort of conversation but each time he does his brain reminds him where each of Jemma’s fingers are resting and promptly shorts out. Luckily Jemma seems to be far less affected by their proximity because after walking a few blocks she launches into a discussion about the dendrotoxin side-project that she’d mentioned a few weeks ago. 

He asks her a few questions when necessary but is mostly content to just listen in wonder as Jemma details all of the ideas she’s tentatively thinking about pitching to SciTech. He wants to tell her not to, that her ideas are better than the company she works for, but doesn’t want to do or say anything that might ruin their lunch before it even gets started.

It’s a short walk to the park and both are excited to see that there’s an empty picnic table along the outer edge of the sculpture display in the central square. They turn to each other in unison and don’t even have to say anything to know that they will most definitely be eating first, and enjoying the display second. They walk leisurely towards the picnic table, quickening their pace when they spot a group of hipsters that look as though they may converge on the prime seating space, and collapse on the benches in breathless laughter. 

Fitz yanks his backpack off of his shoulders and places it on the end of the table, opening it as he begins to remove the various utensils and other necessary accoutrements. He hums quietly under his breath and sees Jemma grinning at him in his peripheral vision. For a moment he thinks she’s laughing at him so he looks up, preparing to defend himself, but notices that her smile shows only fondness, without the slightest hint of mirth. 

He smiles warmly in response which spurns her into moving towards the bag that she had brought, pulling out various side dishes before pausing and frowning down at the food still at the bottom of the bag. "Oh no..." Jemma is looking dejectedly into the bag she'd packed and Fitz eyes her warily as he subtly crosses his fingers and prays that she hadn't forgotten the main food. "What?" 

She looks up at him and Fitz is honestly worried that she may start crying. "I just realized that the only sandwiches I packed are prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella..." 

Fitz’s mouth begins watering at her description and he's wholly confused as to why any of the words she'd just said would be cause for such despondency. "What's the problem with that? That sounds delicious!"

Jemma blinks quickly and her dejectedness quickly transforms into visible confusion. "…Aren't you a vegetarian?" 

Fitz blanches at the thought and shivers at the word 'vegetarian.' He couldn't think of anything worse. "God no. That sounds awful." 

Jemma stares at him blankly before leaning back on the bench and shaking her head in puzzlement. "Are you fucking kidding me?" 

Fitz looks up in shock at Jemma. Her voice isn't angry per say, more disbelieving than anything, but it's the first time he's heard her curse and it startles him a bit. The look she's giving him is one of complete bewilderment and it's making him feel just as baffled. 

She leans forward in her seat again and furrows her eyebrows before speaking incredibly slowly. "You're an animal rights activist... who eats meat..."

Fitz’s eyes widen as he realizes the faux pas he's made and immediately understands Jemma's confusion. "Oh..."

"You spent  _weeks_  yelling at me for being an animal killing hypocrite and yet..."

Jemma is still speaking slowly and it's starting to freak Fitz out but it's actually the look in her eyes that's really causing him to feel nervous. It's as though she's in a fugue state, moving and talking but locked in her own mind as she processes the new information. 

She suddenly leans forward and stares at him as though he's every confusing mathematical equation all wrapped up in one person. "YOU'RE AN ANIMAL EATING, ANIMAL RIGHTS ACTIVIST!" 

Fitz jolts back at her raised voice and begins shushing her when the people at the picnic table near by begin to stare at them. Her face is bright red and he glances furtively around to see how much attention they're actually getting. 

"Jemma..." 

"YOU'RE _PROTESTING_ AT..." 

" _Jemma_!" He leans forward, wraps his hand around her wrist, and widens his eyes at her as he tilts his head to point out the now six people that are looking quizzically in their direction. 

Her mouth snaps closed the second his hand makes contact with her. She stares at it for a long moment and he slowly removes it when he thinks she's stopped yelling. She leans forward and hisses, "What the  _hell_  Fitz," under her breath.  

"Okay, okay! I realize why you would think that I'm a vegetarian... It makes sense but..." 

"But  _what_? Fitz two days ago you were literally holding up a sign that said, 'SciTech Killers,' and had pictures of sad looking animals on one side, with pictures of tombstones on the other!" 

"Yes I realize that... Wait how do you know that?" He pauses to look at her in confusion, wracking his brain to remember if he’d seen Jemma at any point during the day after he’d begun protesting. 

Jemma rolls her eyes at this and her fingers begin to rub small circles at her temples. "My office faces the street that you guys protest on.  _Not_  the point Fitz." 

He nods his head once before shaking it in an attempt to get back on topic. "Listen, while I do think that SciTech's treatment of animals is barbaric, and frankly unnecessary considering the work you're doing now, it's... The animal rights stuff... Well if I'm going to be honest..." 

"A novel idea." 

He ignores Jemma's snort of derision and keeps talking. "...the animal rights stuff isn't really _my_ priority. Half of the SHIELD protestors are focused on spreading awareness and information about the mistreatment of the animals, and the other half are focused more on protesting the actual _research_ that's being conducted. Specifically the... the GH325 project." 

Jemma leans back at this and looks down at where her hands are clasped on the table in front of her. "But _every_ argument we've gotten in has involved you calling me an animal murderer. If that aspect of the activism isn't what you're focused on... why is it the only thing you consistently bring up?" 

"Because it gets the most attention! And it _is_ wrong, and I _do_ disagree with it! And the only way Mack would approve of my pitch to protest SciTech was if I focused it on the animal aspect instead of the research issues." 

Jemma’s mouth opens at this and she stares at him as though she’s seeing him for the first time. " _You_ were the one who organized the _whole_ protest?" 

Fitz nods slowly at this and realizes that he’d gone this entire time assuming that Jemma had known how involved he truly was in the SciTech protest. Apparently she hadn’t because she’s studying him now from across the table. 

"Yeah. I heard about some of the practices, did some digging, and was basically horrified by everything about SciTech. So I approached Mack about making it SHIELD's next big rally, he looked at the stuff I'd uncovered, and agreed to it so long as we put a heavy emphasis on the animal abuse. I guess SHIELD is looking to gain new members and he figured that the animal stuff would get more attention and support than the research stuff." 

“You complete and utter prat.” Jemma’s shaking her head at him but he can’t get a read on what her actual mood is so he decides that the best thing to do is ask. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

She pauses for a moment to contemplate both his question and her answer. As she does, she reaches back into the food bag and tosses a sandwich at him with slightly more force than necessary considering they’re only about a foot away from each other. Fitz makes no move to open it despite the mouth-watering smell that is now wafting in his direction, more concerned with waiting Jemma out. 

She taps her fingers on the table as she tilts her head and considers him. “I’m _definitely_ annoyed but I’m not sure if the irritation is strong enough to be considered anger. Also, I’m oddly pleased because I now know that half of the hurtful insults you’ve thrown at me can just as easily apply to you…” 

“Well I wouldn’t go _that_ fa…” 

She cuts him of and extends one finger. “Hates animals…” 

“Now that’s not…” 

A second finger is extended next to the first. “Hypocrite for _sure…”_

“Okay I’ll give you that one…” 

A third finger is raised. “You’re using pictures of cute animals, most of which aren’t even used at SciTech, to _lure_ people to your protest! What kind of heartless creature does that?! Oh wait, I know…” 

Jemma grins at him and Fitz groans because he knows exactly where she’s going with this. 

“Don’t say it…” 

Jemma leans forward, smile still in place, and speaks very deliberately. 

“A soulless robot.” 

His head falls to the table with a groan and he hears Jemma snort in laughter across from him. He lifts his head with narrowed eyes and she just raises her eyebrows back at him. 

“Don’t look at me like that Fitz. It’s not _my_ fault that your mechanical heart has prevented you from having a soul.” Her eyes twinkle with mirth and he actually finds himself to be extremely relieved at the sight. Though he’d managed to explain everything in a relatively calm voice, he’s been panicking for the past few minutes thinking that Jemma would dump another drink in his face and storm off. 

She rolls her eyes as though she knows what it is he’s thinking and nods at the sandwich that is still wrapped in his hands. He gives her a grateful, in more ways than one, smile before hastily unwrapping the sandwich and biting into it with a moan. 

“ _Fuck._ ” He’s never had a religious experience but he thinks that this right here could be considered one. 

Jemma looks up at him, taking note of the way his eyes are on the verge of crossing in appreciation, and smiles lightly. “All right?” 

“Beyond all right. So good. So, so, good. It’s delicious.” 

He ends up devouring it, packing it away in eleven bites, and when he looks down at his empty hands in disappointment, Jemma just laughs and reaches into the bag. She tosses him another sandwich and when he looks at her in awe she just shrugs and says, “I came prepared.” 

They eat their food and spend the rest of the hour focused on topics that are far less likely to cause any disputes or reveal any hidden secrets. That’s not to say that they don’t get into a few heated debates, but each of them end with Jemma rolling her eyes and Fitz picking up a different one of the treats she’d brought and stuffing it in his mouth. 

At one point Fitz sticks his foot on the bench next to Jemma and she warns him that if he doesn’t remove it, she’ll draw on his shoe. He calls her bluff and places his left foot next to his right while raising an eyebrow in challenge. In a moment she’s whipping out a Sharpie and leaning over his feet. After a few seconds she leans back, shoots him a smug smile, and recaps the marker before tucking it back into her pocket. He slowly pulls his feet off of the bench as Jemma nibbles on a cookie and looks down at where a dopamine molecule is now visible on the rubber toe of his Converse. The sight makes his heart pound in his chest and he has to quickly grab his own cookie to hide the ear-splitting smile on his face. 

They eventually make it over to the sculpture garden and stare silently at the pieces until, at the same time, they both say, “I don’t get it.” 

They chuckle amiably and when Jemma looks at her watch and tells him that it’s time to head back, Fitz grabs the bags from the table and they make their way back towards SciTech. 

About halfway there Jemma turns to him quizzically. “So if you genuinely _do_ disapprove of the use of animals in the medical field… And _are_ an advocate for banning animal testing in research facilities… Why _aren’t_ you a vegetarian?” 

Fitz pauses for a moment before glancing over towards her with the most serious expression he can muster. “I  _hate_ vegetables Simmons. I really, really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Fitz and Simmons have a lunch that doesn't end in a complete fiasco. It certainly came close though... 
> 
> Next chapter, 'Two Brits Walk Into a Bar..." is another favorite of mine because TRIPSKYE AND FITZSIMMONS DRINKING TOGETHER IN AN ENVIRONMENT WITH MOOD LIGHTING AND A NICE AMBIANCE. We'll also get a big detail concerning both Fitz and Skye's past and, I dunno... maybe the night will end well for one or both of the pairs.
> 
> Many thanks as always for reading/kudosing/commenting. It is beyond appreciated.


	14. Two Brits Walk Into A Bar...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Jemma join TripSkye at the Boiler Room for bar night. Tensions run high after a certain piece of information is inadvertently revealed but the night ends with someone FINALLY making a move.

Friday morning Fitz gets a text from Jemma that mirrors his from the day before, reminding him that she’d gone into work early for her conference, meaning she will _not_ be meeting him at the crosswalk for their morning walk. He responds quickly with the okay emoji and a confirmation that he’ll see her after work at the bar with Trip and Skye.

They exchange a few sporadic texts over the course of the day, mostly whenever Jemma is feeling bored in the conference she’s complaining about, but sometimes when Fitz wants to share a particularly embarrassing pick-up line that Hunter attempts to use on hapless women passing the protest. 

At some point during their texting, he and Simmons end up deciding that they may as well arrive at the bar _together_ , both agreeing that it would simply be easier, and quite frankly more enjoyable, to walk from SciTech to the Boiler Room with each other instead of by themselves. 

The protestors leave before the SciTech workday is through so Fitz decides to just wait the extra half hour for Jemma. The sun hasn’t fully set so Fitz is comfortable in just his long-sleeve tee but Jemma meets him at the fountain outside of SciTech in a long trench coat, claiming that the last thing she needed was to catch a cold simply because she didn’t wear a jacket. 

They chat amicably as they make their way over to the Boiler Room and Fitz launches into a more detailed version of the various reactions Hunter received for his flirting. When they reach the bar Fitz opens the door for her and feels something tug at his chest when she beams up at him in thanks. It’s a feeling that’s become more and more frequent over their last few interactions and he’s a bit wary of what predicament it may land him in. 

Jemma steps into the bar and he follows closely behind her. He spots Skye and Trip immediately, already knowing where they usually sit, but Jemma’s eyes flit across the room in search of them. Fitz hesitatingly places his hand on her back, feeling the way she jumps slightly at the touch, and nods in the direction of the corner booth where Trip and Skye are waiting. 

Her eyes light up in recognition and she shoots him a small smile before moving forward. Fitz realizes that now that Jemma knows where to go there’s really no need to keep his hand on her, but he notices some of the men at the bar glance at her appreciatively and decides to keep his hand exactly where it is. He also decides to move closer to her, chest almost touching her back, as they weave through the throng of people. 

He knows the exact moment Skye spots them because she jumps up from the booth and barrels towards them, ignoring Fitz completely and grasping Jemma’s hands to pull her to the table in excitement. She does shoot Fitz a smirk over her shoulder as she leads Jemma to the booth and pointedly nods at his hand, which is still raised mid-air in the space that Jemma had just vacated. He shoves it quickly in his pocket and watches as Skye throws her head back in laughter at his blushing face. 

He reaches the booth as Skye slides in next to Trip, conveniently leaving the other side entirely vacant, and Jemma begins to extract her coat. Fitz is too busy glaring at Skye, silently berating her for her lack of subtlety, to process that Jemma has asked him a question. When he feels her fingers gently grip his elbow he turns to face her and feels his jaw open and his eyes widen. She’s dressed in the same body-hugging jeans that she’d worn the last time they were at the bar but they’re now paired with a slightly sheer, and _definitely_ sleeveless, crimson blouse that makes his mouth go dry. It’s not a particularly revealing top, the neckline is modest and every bit as elegant as its wearer, but the material is _just_ thin enough that he can make out the outline of her torso and deduce that she’s wearing a black bra beneath it. 

“Wha… Uh… What was that?” 

Fitz glances quickly at Skye for some assistance regarding the question he’d missed and is met with the sight of her tucking her face into Trip’s shoulder in an attempt to hide her laughter. The full shaking of her body makes it a failed effort on her part and Fitz feels himself blush at his friend’s obviousness. Trip has the decency to put a _little_ more effort into hiding his own amusement. His grin is broad but the moment Fitz’s eyes meet his, he shifts his face into an expression of sympathy and shrugs his shoulders. 

When he turns back to Jemma she’s giving him a peculiar look and he quickly shakes his head to snap himself out of the adolescent mindset he’d spiraled into as she repeats her question. “I asked if you’d prefer sitting on the inside or the outside.” 

Fitz’s mind processes the question for a moment as he analyzes the pros and cons of each seat. Just as he opens his mouth to say he’d prefer the inside, there’s less of a draft and he likes being able to turn his body and lean against the wall, Skye answers for him. 

“Give him the outside seat. He’d prefer the inside but he’ll be getting up so much to get us drinks that it’d really just end up being an inconvenience for both of you.” 

Fitz opens his mouth to retort her claim but realizes that it actually is a _very_ good point and a real possibility. Once he reaches a certain level of intoxication he becomes a real people-pleaser and Skye is correct in assuming that he’ll likely be the one volunteering to make the trek to the bar to collect the group’s drinks. 

Fitz looks back at Jemma, careful not to let his eyes wander away from her face, and simply shrugs in confirmation of Skye’s statement. She gives him a small smile, raising her eyebrow at the easy acceptance of his role as future drink-bearer, but doesn’t say anything as she slides into the booth. He follows closely behind and quickly leans his head against the frayed pleather of the seat, closing his eyes for a brief moment until he feels Skye kick his leg under the table.

“Looks to me like someone could use a drink.” 

Fitz groans at the statement, knowing that he probably looks rather pathetically desperate for some alcohol if Skye is that quick to comment on it. “Is it that obvious?”

She gives a small chuckle at this and just shakes her head at him. 

“Awkward… I was actually referring to myself. As in, look at how the drink in front of me is empty and in need of a refill.” Skye slowly pushes the glass towards him and Fitz groans in frustration at already having to make his way to the bar. He glances at Trip who has slowly begun pushing his own empty beer bottle in his direction and doesn’t even _have_ to look at Jemma to know that she’s likely giving him her imploring smile. 

“Yeah, yeah, all right I’m going. An artificially colored fruit drink for Skye, a beer for Trip and myself and… what’s your poison of choice tonight Simmons?” 

“Johnnie Walker, neat. Make it a double if possible.” She’s incredibly casual as she gives her order, which makes everyone at the table raise their eyebrows in surprise. Jemma glances around at them and takes in their slightly shocked faces before defensively saying, “What? It was a rough day at work! I’d like to see _you_ try to deal with some of the imbeciles working at SciTech.” 

Skye chokes out a laugh at this and Trip’s eyes quickly flit over to Fitz who’s quickly shaking his head at him. Fitz watches as the other man furrows his brows a bit and purses his lips, and he knows that they’ll likely be having a conversation later about what it is exactly that Jemma does and does not know. 

“Johnnie Walker. Got it. Back in a bit.” Fitz stands up and makes his way to the bar, letting his eyes peruse the specials board before ordering their drinks and tacking on a few appetizers for good measure. The bar isn’t too packed yet which he’s grateful for because it means he only has to awkwardly stand around for ten minutes for the food and drinks instead of the usual twenty. 

Fitz carefully balances the purchased items in his arms and slowly makes his way back to where the others are waiting for him. He manages to avoid dropping anything, a rare feat for him, and pulls up to the table with his arms still laden with everyone’s orders. Jemma’s the only one facing him during his approach and he sees her eyes widen at the sight of him buried beneath a small mountain of greasy bar food and alcohol. 

He places Skye’s drink on the table first, knowing that she’s the most likely to comment on his slowness and isn’t surprised when she begins to speak the moment her eyes spot the beverage. 

“Finally! What the hell took you so lon… Oh food! Thank god, I’m starving.” 

“As I knew you’d be. A thank you would be appreciated, though wholly unexpected.” He slides next to Jemma and throws his arm over the back of the booth before realizing how the others may view the gesture. Jemma doesn’t even notice as she’s too busy leaning forward to grab a chip, but Skye and Trip wink at him in such synchrony that Fitz thinks they must have planned it. 

He hastily retracts his arm, letting it fall loosely to his side before Jemma realizes where it had been. She leans back against the booth, one chip in her mouth and another in her hand, and smiles over at him entirely none the wiser. His ears are a bit red and he quickly grabs his beer to block his equally pink face. 

Skye being Skye decides that Fitz’s embarrassment should be amplified so she shoots him another wink before turning towards Jemma. “God Simmons, I still _love_ that shirt. I _told_ you buying it was a good idea. I wish I could pull of that color but it just never looks good with my skin tone. Fitz, how good does that shirt look on Jemma?” 

Trip smacks his head with his hand, chuckling at Skye’s question, as Jemma’s cheeks turn pink at the other girl’s words. Fitz meanwhile begins choking on his beer in such a comically overdramatic fashion that Jemma begins to tentatively thwack his back in an attempt to help. The motion only serves to pull the fabric of her shirt tighter against her body and ends up causing another bout of coughing on Fitz’s part. 

When he finally regains his breath his entire face is the same crimson shade as Jemma’s shirt. “Sorry, sorry. Went down the wrong pipe. Yes Simmons, it’s a lovely blouse.” Jemma gives him a look of concern and Fitz is grateful that she seems to think his flushed cheeks are a result of a lack of oxygen instead of a reaction to just _how good_ that shirt looks on her. 

“Yeah sureit’s a lovely _blouse_ but Simmons is even lovelier right?” Skye shoots him a look of exasperation and Fitz isn’t a hundred percent sure what it is exactly she wants him to say so he just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Well yeah obviously, but she’s always lovely.” 

It’s a passing statement that he doesn’t think really needs explaining so he reaches for the plate of wings and begins to eat. He’s halfway through the third one before he glances up and realizes that everyone at the table is looking at him. Trip has a knowing smile on his face, Skye looks like she’s holding back a squeal, and Jemma… Jemma is looking at him with a softness that makes him pause with the chicken halfway to his lips. 

“What?” He looks around at them in confusion but none of their expressions change. “She is! I wasn’t saying anything we don’t already know!” Trip’s grin widens and Skye is visibly doing everything she can to prevent herself from clapping. Jemma’s eyes are radiating warmth and her soft smile is still in place. 

“Oh don’t you look at me like that Dr. Simmons… I admitted that you always _look_ lovely. I still think you’re a maniacal Dr. Frankenstein hell-bent on using your intellect for evil instead of good. Don’t go thinking I actually _like_ you.” 

Jemma’s smile doesn’t falter, if anything it grows, and she responds with an, “I would _never,”_ before snatching another chip and turning back to face Trip and Skye. 

Fitz knows that there’s really no way he can come back from openly admitting that he finds Jemma to be perpetually lovely and, honestly, he doesn’t really want to. This is a relaxed enough environment that he doesn’t mind being a bit looser with his tongue. Worse comes to worst he’ll just blame any future slip-ups on the alcohol. 

“Right then well… We’ve got good food, good alcohol, and good company. How about we start this night off with a bang and play a good game.” Trip claps his hands with a grin and moves his gaze between Skye, Fitz, and Jemma. 

Fitz groans, having played numerous ‘good games’ with Trip and Skye before. Said games are generally aimed at getting him absolutely hammered and them only moderately buzzed. He glances over at Jemma who only looks 10% dubious and surprisingly 90% willing. 

 _Ah, such an innocent. Poor thing has no idea what she’s getting herself into._  

Skye meanwhile is _100_ % willing and thumps her hands on the table with enthusiasm. “Yes. I’m in. Let’s do it. What are we starting with?” 

“A classic Skye. We’ll be starting with a classic…” 

-O- 

“Never have I ever corrected a professor so many times that he ended up going to the Dean of the university to request that I be removed from his class.” 

Fitz rolls his eyes at Skye’s clear attempt to get him drunk but takes a long sip of his beer, choking on it a bit when he sees that Jemma is drinking beside him. He swivels his head to stare at her in shock. 

She shrugs in response to his look of incredulity and places her glass back on the table while simultaneously reaching for a chip. “Technically the professor was a _she_ but the other details were applicable enough to warrant drinking.” 

Skye looks between them and seems to quickly piece together the fact that she is now with _two_ geniuses instead of one, meaning that whatever she usually says to get Fitz drunk will likely work on Jemma as well. She turns to Trip with a sly grin that promises mischief. “Oh this is going to be fun.” 

-O- 

It most decidedly is _not_ fun. 

For Jemma and Fitz that is, Skye and Trip are having a ball throwing out, “nerd stuff,” and laughing as the two across from them begrudgingly take a drink each time. He and Jemma attempt to keep pace with Skye’s statements but Jemma’s known the other girl far shorter than Fitz has and doesn’t always get them right. 

It’s fun to watch her try though. 

Fitz snorts loudly as a slightly tipsy Jemma looks at Skye for a moment before hesitantly saying, “Never Have I Ever… had a threesome?” 

Trip laughs too as Skye gasps at the other girl and puts her hand on her chest in mock-offense. “Jemma Simmons… I’ll have you know that I am truly hurt and offended by that assumption. I shan’t be drinking because I have not partaken in such scandalous sexual practices.” 

Fitz knows that Skye is just messing around but Jemma looks as though she might break into a six-part apology with sub-apologies and hand gestures so he quickly jumps in before she can begin. “Yeah Simmons. If you’re trying to get Skye to drink you have to say something like, _Never Have I Ever dated someone solely for their cheekbones_ or _Never Have I Ever lived in a van._ Then she’ll drink.” 

Skye narrows her eyes challengingly at him from across the table but Trip intervenes before she can retort. “You’re only dating me for my cheekbones? C’mon girl!” This draws a smile from her and she turns to him to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I’m dating you for a lot more than your cheekbones.” 

“Yeah it was Ward whose only redeeming quality was his jawline.” It’s a throwaway statement that Fitz makes as he sips at his beer but Skye visibly tenses and he immediately wishes he could take back the comment. He instantly wants to apologize as he notes Skye’s rigid posture, he _knows_ better to bring up the subject, and flinches when Jemma innocently asks, “Who’s Ward?” 

“Nobody worth mentioning. Let’s play something else huh? It looks like the dartboard is free.” Fitz tries to distract from the topic he’d stupidly brought up but when Skye knocks her drink back without batting an eye he knows that he won’t be lucky enough to escape repercussions.

“No, no, no, let’s keep playing. Whose turn is it? Mine? Hmm… let’s see… What to ask, what to ask. I know!” 

Skye turns to face him with a fake smile that Fitz immediately sees through and a cold glare that seems to paralyze him. Her words are slow and deliberate and she doesn’t take her eyes off him as she says them. 

“Never have I ever worked for SciTech.” 

Fitz feels the blood drain from his face and whatever sympathy he’d felt for Skye dissipates instantly. He can see Jemma take a drink out of the corner of his eye, unaware of the tension that had suddenly skyrocketed in the booth, but his gaze is locked on his roommate. There’s a cruelness to her smile that infuriates him because he knows that she’s intentionally trying to hurt him. He’d been expecting _something_ in response to bringing up _He Who Must Not Be Named_ but she’d gone too far. His slip of the tongue was an accident but her dig was done with the sole purpose of upsetting him. 

It worked too. 

He’s not ready to have this conversation, hasn’t been ready for years, and is _certainly_ not ready to have it with Jemma sitting a few scant inches beside him. He needs to escape before Skye decides to take it one step further and actually _tell_ Jemma what it is he’s been intentionally keeping from her, so he quickly stands to his feet and snatches the empty plates of food from the table. 

“Anyone want a refill? No? Well I do.” He stomps away from the table and doesn’t look back, instead opting to head to the bar and take three shots of a truly vile substance in quick succession. 

After a few minutes of silent stewing he feels a warm hand touch his shoulder and he flinches at the contact, “Go away Skye.” 

“Not Skye, but I will go away if you need a moment to…” Jemma eyes the empty shot glasses on the bar, “…have another drink.” 

“I’m sorry.” He shifts his body slightly to take her in and his breath hitches as he notes the way she is leaning against the bar. 

“I don’t know what it is you’re apologizing _for_ but I have a feeling it’s not me you should be apologizing _to.”_ Jemma looks at him knowingly and he sighs, running his hand through his hair and closing his eyes in frustration. 

“I shouldn’t have mentioned Ward. It’s… It was a whole thing that Skye will probably tell you about on one of your girl’s nights. I didn’t have any right to mention it but it was an accident and then she… I don’t know. She just got under my skin is all.” 

Jemma’s eyes shift away from his and stare down at the patterns she’s drawing into the condensation of the pint in front of her. “Because she reminded you that I work for SciTech?” 

She looks a little sad when she says it and Fitz realizes how Jemma must have interpreted his exchange with Skye. As far as Jemma knows, _she’s_ the only one who’s ever worked for SciTech, meaning that his little tantrum likely seemed to be directed at least partly at her. 

“What? No I just…” 

“She brought up SciTech and you remembered that my _working_ for SciTech means you shouldn’t have fun with me.” Jemma now _sounds_ a little sad and, though the drinking likely made her a bit more open with her emotions, he’s beginning to thing that Jemma’s insecurity and uncertainty regarding _them_ was likely much more similar to his own than Fitz had initially thought. 

“No that’s not it Jemma… honest.” Fitz is about to tell her everything but then realizes that she’s actually providing him with both a cover and an excuse. He takes the coward’s way out and, instead of telling the truth, he decides to run with Jemma’s assumption. 

“It’s just… I forget sometimes is all. We have so much in common and _do_ have fun together so I sometimes forget that, for most of the day, we’re still technically on opposite sides.”

 Jemma sighs at this, not taking her eyes off of the pint glass until he places his hand on her back. She looks up at him and Fitz sees the way that her eyes seem to be glistening slightly. He hates that the look of sadness and defeat on her face is once again because of him so he decides to move forward and tentatively wrap his arms around her in a gentle hug. Her own arms don’t hesitate to move around his waist and Fitz realizes that it’s the closest he’s been to her since she’d patched him up last weekend. 

After a few moments of him trying not to obviously burrow his nose into Jemma’s hair, Fitz feels her mumble something against his neck. He doesn’t catch a word of it and knows that he’ll have to take a step back to understand her. So he does. He steps away from her and lets his hands drop to his side with a twang of disappointment. 

“Sorry?” He needs her to repeat whatever it is she’d said because he wants to hear pretty much anything and everything that Jemma chooses to say to him. 

She takes a deep breath, cheeks pinking slightly as she does, before she looks at him with determination. “What about nights?” 

He stares at her in confusion, truly having no idea what the question is meant to imply. “What?” 

“You said we’re on opposite sides for most of the day. Are we on opposite sides during the night?” Jemma looks at him before gesturing around the bar and he smiles as he realizes what it is she’s getting at. 

“It’s hard to say Simmons… but I’m willing to wave a white flag on nights and weekends if you are.” He extends his hand and grins when she promptly grasps it, giving it one strong shake before removing her hand to pick up the beer that is still sitting on the bar. She takes a sip of the amber liquid and smiles at him over the rim as she does. He likes how at ease she looks here, in her red blouse and jeans, and feels an overwhelming amount of guilt course through him as he realizes just how many secrets he’s really keeping from her. 

-O- 

When they finally make their way back to the booth they find Skye fiddling with her thumbs on the table as Trip looks on. When she spots him and Jemma walking towards the table, Skye’s slightly watery eyes lock on his. Jemma seems to notice the silent conversation and promptly asks Trip if he’d like to join her in a game of billiards. He leaps over Skye to exit the booth and loops his arm through Jemma’s, shooting both Fitz and his girlfriend a look that clearly says _fix this,_ before he leads Jemma in the direction of the pool table. 

Fitz sits across from his oldest friend and waits in silence for a few moments before looking up, catching her eyes, and immediately opening his mouth to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

They speak at the same time and both smile shyly at one another at the realization. Fitz holds up a hand to stop her from speaking further and launches into his apology. 

“I didn’t mean to bring him up. I swear. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just the environment in general, I don’t know. But I’d never want to do anything to hurt you and I’m sorry that I did. It’s not my place to mention Ward, especially in front of Trip and Jemma, and I regretted it the second I did. I’m sorry Skye.” 

She gives him a watery smile, reaching across the table to grasp his hand, and sighs before she begins to speak. 

“Well _I’m_ sorry because I actually _did_ want to hurt you. Bringing up SciTech was beyond messed up, no matter how upset I was with you, because I _know_ how terrible the subject makes you feel. And to do it in front of Jemma was inexcusable. I knew it would hurt you and I did it anyways and I’m _sorry.”_  

He pats her hand and smiles at her, nodding his head in acceptance of her words. This is neither the first nor the biggest tiff that they’ve gotten in, but it got personal too quickly for Fitz’s liking and he is briefly overcome with anxiety. Skye has gotten him through some of the darkest points of his life and he worries that one day he’ll say or do something that will make her leave. 

She reads him easily, hastily swiping at her eyes to prevent any tears from falling, and saying, “Never,” with such vehemence that it’d be impossible not to take her at her word. He mumbles, “Same,” in response and that is that. They’re FitzSkye once more and the air between them is clear. 

“Wanna go crush Trip and Jemma at pool?” He’s a bit hesitant with his question, not sure if Skye is really up to playing partners-pool with him, but her instant smile puts him at ease. 

“Absolutely. Let’s do this Leopold.” 

-O- 

By the time the group exits the bar they are all pleasantly buzzed with smiles on their faces and a decent amount of alcohol in their systems. Trip asks Skye if she plans on staying at his place, combining the question with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, and she nods eagerly in response. 

She turns to face Fitz and Jemma with a beam and quickly moves to hug them both. She whispers something into Jemma’s ear that causes the other woman to pull back with a blush and a surprised, “Skye!” 

When Skye loops her arms around him and squeezes tightly he makes sure to reciprocate with just as secure a grip. She pulls back and kisses him on the cheek before looping her arm through Trip’s and skipping down the street in the direction of his apartment. 

Fitz laughs as he watches them go and turns back to look at Jemma who seems just as amused by the sight. “I don’t know about you but there’s no bloody way I’m walking home tonight. Fancy sharing one of those nice looking cabs?” 

Jemma glances over at the cars parked outside the bar and nods eagerly when her gaze returns to him. Fitz does what he’d done walking into the bar and places his hand on her lower back to guide her towards the cabs. He opens the door for her and waits until she’s tucked herself into the seat before closing it behind her and walking around to the other side. Once he’s in he gestures for Jemma to tell the driver her address and then sits back when the car begins to move. 

Jemma peers out the window and Fitz feels his throat contract at the way the shadows dance across her face and the streetlights ignite her caramel eyes. They’re lost in a companionable silence, neither feeling the need to speak and are instead content with casting furtive glances at each other and smiling when they get caught. After about five minutes of this the cab pulls up to a nice apartment building and Jemma turns to face him and speaks for the first time since they’d clambered into the vehicle. “Well, this is me.” 

Fitz nods his head at her statement, trying to figure out if there’s any underling meaning or message behind it, before realizing how absurd the thought is. She looks at him for a moment, he’s not entirely sure why, before she leans forward to glance at the meter on the cab. Her hand moves to her purse and his moves with it, quickly covering her hand to stop her from reaching her wallet. 

“Don’t worry about it Jemma, honestly.” 

She opens her mouth in protest, muttering a, “But,” as she begins what is sure to be a rebuttal, so he does what has quickly become their thing and simply talks over her. 

“Listen. You meet me at our usual spot Monday morning with a piping-hot cup of Earl Grey and we’ll call it even.” 

Jemma glances down at where his hand is still loosely wrapped around hers before looking back up with a small smile. 

“Deal. Earl Grey, Monday morning, our usual spot.” 

Her smile grows at the end of the sentence and Fitz feels his own heart quicken as he realizes that they really _do_ have a spot. He knows that, come Monday, he’ll make it to the crosswalk two blocks away from SciTech and she’ll be there waiting. Or _she’ll_ make it there and _he’ll_ be waiting. Either way, they’ll both be there because they always are. 

Fitz matches her grin and pulls his hand away as Jemma reaches for the door handle and steps out of the cab, giving him one last lingering smile before shutting the car door.

Fitz watches her walk up to her apartment building and waves as she turns to look at him. Even in the dark he can see her blinding smile as she waves back at him before stepping into the building and closing the door behind her. The cab sits idly for a moment before the driver turns to look at him and asks where it is that he needs to go. He rattles off his address and leans back into the seat as the car begins moving. 

They make it a few blocks before he notices the little black object on the floor where Jemma had been seated. He bends to pick it up and his eyes widen as he looks at it. The SciTech insignia is etched into the piece of plastic that he now realizes is a key fob, much like the one he used to carry with him, to the building’s lab facilities. He’s a bit impressed because the black color of the key means that Jemma has access to _everything_ , no restrictions and no need to fill out any paperwork to get into a specific room. He’d _hated_ the paperwork. 

 _She probably really needs this back._  

-O- 

The next thing Fitz knows he’s standing on the street, watching the cab pull away, and shoving the key fob into his pocket. He turns and begins walking back towards Jemma’s apartment with the intent of returning the plastic key to its rightful owner. It’s a bit colder than he’d anticipated but he welcomes the chill as it clears his mind and seems to remove the last of the alcohol from his system. 

He shoves his hands in his pocket and wishes that he’d had the forethought to at least bring a sweater with him. He quickens his pace in an attempt to warm himself up a bit and wants to sigh in relief when he makes it to Jemma’s apartment building at the same time as another one of the tenants. 

“Hold the door please!” 

Luckily the man seems to be about as inebriated as Fitz was a few hours ago and doesn’t question him as he bounds up the steps and slips into the building. 

He quickly peruses the row of mailboxes in the lobby until he spots the neatly scrawled _J. Simmons_ on the box labeled 6C. He looks around for an elevator and is disappointed when he spots the _Out of Order_ sign that is taped to the metal doors. Fitz glances at the stairwell and sighs as he begins his ascent. Six flights is one more than what he’s accustomed to and he resigns himself to the fact that if he wasn’t sober before, he surely will be by the time he manages to reach his destination. 

He pauses at the fourth floor and realizes that he has no clue what he’s doing, why he felt the need to return this key _tonight_ when Jemma wouldn’t even need it until after the weekend. He could have texted her, telling her that he’d found the fob in the car and would return it to her bright and early Monday morning. _Instead_ he is standing in the stairwell of her apartment building, pacing back and forth and contemplating whether or not he’s come too far to turn back now. 

He reasons that he’d be more comfortable knowing that the key is safely in Jemma’s possession so he straightens his shoulders and begins to climb the remaining two flights. Once he reaches the sixth floor it takes him no time to locate 6C and an embarrassingly _long_ time to find the courage to actually knock. 

He finally takes a deep breath and uses his knuckles to rap against the door three times before nervously twiddling his fingers and bouncing in place. He holds his breath and waits but nothing happens. He _thinks_ he can hear a distant shuffling but isn’t positive and doesn’t want to make any assumptions. 

After a moment he raises his arm to knock again when the door swings open and he finds himself staring at Jemma. She looks surprised to see him at first but quickly beams up at him and leans against the propped door. Any reason he had for coming up here disappears as he looks at her, still dressed in the figure hugging jeans and slightly sheer blouse that she’d worn to the bar. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep over her figure and he feels his mind go completely blank at the sight of her standing so casually in the doorway of what looks to be an impeccably decorated apartment. 

“Fitz?” 

Jemma’s voice snaps him out of his reverie and his eyes lock on hers. She’s staring at him in confusion now, understandable considering he’s standing outside her apartment gaping like an idiot, and raises her eyebrows when he remains silent. 

“Is there… I mean… Did you need something?” 

He thinks about the key fob that he’d hauled himself up six flights of stairs to return to her but can’t bring himself to reach into his pocket and give it to her. 

“Fitz…?” 

He nods silently at her, not entirely sure what it is he’s nodding at, too overcome with this sudden onslaught of emotion to worry about it. 

“Is that… is that a yes?” Jemma’s looking at him now as though he’s a literal lost puppy and Fitz blinks quickly in an attempt to clear the fog from his mind. 

“Is that a yes, what?” He looks at her questioningly and wonders if she thinks he’s drunk or genuinely stupid. 

She smiles fondly at him, _definitely thinks he’s drunk,_ and slows her words. 

“Did. You. Need. Something?” 

Fitz stares at her, amber eyes almost glowing in the dim lighting of the hallway and warm smile overtaking her face, and realizes that the answer to Jemma’s question is most certainly _yes._ He slowly nods his head again, keeping his eyes locked on hers, and watches as her smile seems to fade into a look of expectancy. Fitz decides that this is it, this is the moment where he needs to make a decision: head vs heart. 

Looking at her now, the decision is easy.

Fitz chooses the latter option and quickly steps forward, grasping Jemma’s head between his hands and kissing her the way he’s wanted to for weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.
> 
> Took long enough. Hope you enjoy the happy group dynamics while they last because... they won't last long O_O
> 
> Thank you as always for reading/commenting/kudosing. 14 Chapters in and it still makes me feel swell to know people are actually enjoying this thing.
> 
> ******An important warning: THE NEXT CHAPTER (BEING POSTED ON SATURDAY) IS THE ONE THAT WILL BUMP UP THE RATING OF THIS THING. It picks up right where this one leaves off and is called "...Later That Night They Hook-Up" so... Use your mind and it'll be pretty obvious why the next chapter is one to avoid if you don't wish to read E *cough*sexualcontent*cough* So yeah, skip it if you're as uncomfortable reading that stuff as I was writing it. I PROMISE you won't miss anything plot-wise since there isn't actually much plot. And I'll post a quick G-summary of what happened in the notes before Sunday's post for those of you who opted not to read.******


	15. ... Later That Night They Hook-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do the do. That is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED E FOR EXPLICIT, NOT E FOR EVERYONE!!!! I highly recommend not reading this if you do not feel comfortable reading sexual content. The chapter being posted tomorrow will have a quick G-Rated summary of what you missed in this one, which is virtually nothing in terms of plot.*****

**_***** REMINDER: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED E FOR EXPLICIT, NOT E FOR EVERYONE!!!!*****_ **

 

 

Jemma meets Fitz halfway and wastes no time gripping his hair and pulling him closer to her, matching the movement of his lips with enthusiasm. His hands move to tighten on her waist and he uses his tongue to taste the faint remnants of whiskey that he’d watched her drink with rapt attention earlier. 

She seems to be just as interested in getting her own taste of the muted bitterness of the beer that’s still lingering on his lips because she matches his every movement with an earnest push and pull. After a few heated moments, the lack of oxygen becomes hard to ignore, but he’ll be damned if he lets something as insignificant as breathing make him pull his mouth away from Jemma Simmons. Fitz wages a brief battle with himself and decides to compromise with the part of him that is begging for a breath. 

In a second he’s detaching his lips from Jemma’s mouth, pulling in air through his nose as he does, and quickly latching them onto every surface of her skin that’s available to him. He presses chaste kisses across her jaw before becoming entirely transfixed by the section of her neck that is visibly throbbing and beckoning him forward. He wastes no time heeding its call, fastening his lips on the pulse point and mouthing at her neck in desperation. 

He feels Jemma’s sharp inhale more than he hears it, as it pushes her further into his chest, and he quickly decides that he’d like to feel it again, and again, and _again._ Fitz pushes her against the doorframe, crowding into her space and leaving no room between them as he continues to nip at the taut skin of her throat. 

Her perfume surrounds him as his lips wander lower and his tongue laves at her collarbone. He briefly moves his mouth to her chest, placing a chaste kiss above her pounding heart, before continuing to the other side of her neck, eager to explore every inch of her exposed flesh. He nips at her earlobe, tugging gently with his teeth, and is rewarded by a sharp gasp that seems to reverberate through him. Fitz can feel her hands tighten in his hair and in a moment she’s pulling his head away from her neck and guiding his mouth back to her own. 

Jemma does something with her tongue that pulls a low groan from his throat and leaves him determined to hear a similar sound coming from her. He moves his hands lower down her body, briefly letting his fingers linger at the warm strip of skin uncovered by her shirt, before palming her from behind and pulling her tighter against him. 

He swallows her whimper and focuses on the path of her fingers as they leave his hair and move to his neck. He shudders at the feeling of her warm hands on his own over-heated skin and groans in disappointment when she uses her new grip to tug his head away. 

The disappointment doesn’t last long though because he only has time for one gasping breath before he feels Jemma’s mouth descend on his own neck, torturously nipping and sucking as he struggles not to moan at her ministrations. Fitz tilts his head to give her more room to work and jumps at the opportunity to knead the denim-clad flesh beneath his hands. He can’t help the cocky grin that escapes him when his roaming hands cause Jemma to exhale an especially harsh breath against his neck. 

He’s met with an overwhelming urge to kiss her again so he squeezes his hands once more before moving them to cradle her head, coaxing her mouth away from his neck, and crashing his lips to hers. Their lips move in tandem. It’s not a duel for dominance so much as a synchronized routine of equal give and take. She’ll do something that causes him to groan and he’ll quickly reciprocate the action until her own whimpers escape. 

He can’t prevent the audible reaction when her hands dip under his shirt and begin to slowly trail up his torso, murmuring a choked, _“Fuck,”_ against her lips. 

Their foreheads are pressed together as they both gasp for air, breaths intermingling and chests heaving against each other. Fitz’s hands have returned to Jemma’s waist and hers are stroking patterns beneath his shirt across the planes of his chest. He sucks in a sharp breath as her hands begin to lower, fingertips dragging across his torso and leaving goose bumps in their wake. When he realizes that her hands’ descent won’t be hindered by the edge of his jeans, he quickly grasps her wrists before weaving his fingers through her own. 

He raises their locked hands until they’re pinned above her head against the doorframe and looks down at her, taking in her smoldering eyes, rosy cheeks, and mischievous grin. It’s quite the sight to behold and all he can do is repeat his earlier exclamation. _“Fuck.”_  

Jemma’s smile widens at this and he can feel her fingers tighten in his grip. “Mmm _hmm_.” She raises an eyebrow and nods her head at him. He growls at the sight and presses further into her before he takes note of the fact that they’re still in her doorway and _very_ much visible to anyone who may walk down the hall. 

Jemma seems to come to the same realization because she tugs her hands from his grasp and slowly pushes against his chest until she has enough room to slide out from between him and the doorframe. Fitz watches her as she slowly backs into her apartment and moves her hands to the top button of her blouse. He’s transfixed by the ease at which her nimble fingers undo the button and he can feel his mouth go dry as he moves his gaze to her eyes.

It only takes a small tilt of the head and quirk of her eyebrow for Fitz to march into the apartment and hoist her into his arms, cupping her backside as she wraps her legs around his waist, before fusing his lips to hers. He belatedly realizes that he _still_ hadn’t managed to close the door so he tightens his grip and moves his feet until he can kick the door shut and promptly press Jemma against it. 

Their tongues tangle together and it fills Fitz with a heat that makes their exchange in the hallway seem to pale in comparison. Jemma’s fingers weave through his hair, tugging in the most delicious way, and he can’t stop himself from rutting up against her in a desperate bid to experience a similar sensation lower in his body. 

The movement causes Jemma to break away from his mouth with a choked moan of pleasure so he does it again… and _again._ Her head thuds against the door as her eyes flutter closed and he groans at the sight. The new angle gives him full access to the smooth column of her throat and he doesn’t hesitate to lick his way across the porcelain skin before once again wrapping his lips around her pulse point. 

_“Fitz.”_ There is a breathy desperation in her voice that makes him groan in response and move his head so that he can catch her mouth in a searing kiss. She meets his lips with fervor and tightens her legs around his waist, drawing him closer and providing a fleeting friction that makes him whimper into her mouth. 

_“Bedroom.”_ He gasps it against her lips between kisses and she nods eagerly in place of a verbal response, opting to instead use her mouth to nip at his jaw and tangle once more with his. 

“Where?” The question is strained as Jemma once again moves her hips against him and traces the tendon in his neck with her tongue. She murmurs an unhelpful, “Behind you,” against his neck and Fitz rolls his eyes in response, partly out of exasperation but mostly because of the strong suck she gives to the skin below his ear. 

Fitz decides that he’d much rather stumble a bit in blind search of the bedroom than put Jemma down to lead the way, so he lets her continue focusing on making him whimper and turns towards the only hallway he spots. Halfway down the corridor she gives an especially sharp nip that has him slamming her against the wall and reattaching his mouth to hers in a fiery kiss that is all tongue and no finesse. 

His arms are propped on either side of her against the wall and he uses their combined weight to keep her upright as their lips move with a growing intensity. When they finally separate, gasping for breath their eyes meet and he is once again stunned by the swirling pools of caramel that, for some reason, are focused on him. He leans forward to rest his head in the crook of her neck and feels his entire body tingle at the sound of her gasps as her shaky breaths puff against his ear. 

The tingling sensation only grows as she catches his earlobe between her teeth and tugs at it before whispering breathily in his ear. “It’s the last door on the left.” 

That’s all it takes for Fitz to move his hands from the wall back to her, hoisting her up against him, and practically sprint towards the room as her peals of laughter echo down the hall. The laughter stops the second he lowers her to the bed and reattaches his lips to her neck, nipping and sucking and mentally cataloguing which flicks of his tongue draw the biggest responses. 

Her hands run through his hair as he lowers his mouth down her chest and noses at the fabric of her blouse. He works his way back up to her lips and resumes his exploration of her mouth as his hands move to skim under her shirt, thumbs stroking at the smooth flesh of her abdomen. 

Jemma arches into his touch and Fitz takes it as permission to shift to a kneeling position and move his hands to the small buttons of her blouse. He quirks his eyebrows at her in a silent question and smiles at her equally silent answer, watching as her own hands move to the top button and pop it free from its constraint. His breathing becomes shallow at the sight and he feels an intense heat begin to pool in his abdomen. 

His hands join hers in their quest to undo each of the small clasps and they meet in the middle, fingers fighting to get the last button until Jemma slaps his hand away with a laugh and finishes undoing the blouse on her own. 

The loose fabric falls to her sides leaving Fitz with the sight of the smooth expanse of skin that it had been covering. He stares at her with reverence, eyes roaming over her toned abdomen, stopping briefly to admire the black lace of her bra, before locking onto her own smoldering gaze. Her pupils are blown wide and he can barely see the amber ring of her irises. 

There’s an emotional shift when their eyes lock and the urgency seems to be replaced with a sincerity that leaves Fitz stunned. He places his hands on her stomach, tentatively moving them to her ribs while keeping his gaze on hers. 

Her hands move to cover his where they’re resting on her stomach and continue moving until they’re running up and down his forearms. Fitz watches with rapt attention as the goose bumps appear on his skin and he begins tracing aimless patterns on her abdomen with his fingers to see if _he_ can cause a similar reaction for her. He grins as he notes the way Jemma’s flesh pebbles beneath his hands and leans forward to trace similar patterns with his tongue. 

Fitz kisses his way up her stomach, smiling at the way her hands tangle in his hair and how her body arches into him. He keeps moving until his mouth reaches the satin bow resting in the center of her bra and he finds himself needing a moment to orient himself. 

Apparently Jemma is unwilling to provide him such a moment because she tugs at his head and brings it level with hers, staring at him with hooded eyes before leaning up and capturing his mouth in another kiss. He feels as her hands move to his shoulders and then run down the length of his spine, reaching the hem of his shirt in seconds and fisting the material between her fingers. 

The warmth from her hands contrasts with the chilly air that hits him as Jemma begins to tug the shirt up his body. She’s really quite skilled because the distraction of the slow glide of the cotton doesn’t hinder her ability to tangle their tongues together and pull moans from his throat. 

Once he feels the fabric bunch across his chest, he pulls away from her and tugs the garment over his head before throwing it on the floor. His lips return to hers in an instant and he groans against them as she wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him closer. Her hands are moving over his torso, fingers dipping teasingly under the waistband of his jeans and making him jolt before they move back up to run over each of his ribs. Her fingers begin to trace the dark lines of his tattoo and Fitz is stupefied as to how one sighting of it burned the lines into Jemma’s memory and allowed her trail her fingers over the ink without breaking her lips from his. 

Fitz finds that he is once again breathless, a common occurrence where Jemma is concerned, so he gives her lips one more nip before releasing them with a pant. His mouth returns to its slow tease of her neck, nipping at the tender flesh and he redoubles his efforts when his ministrations cause her legs to tighten and provide a delicious friction that makes him desperate to prolong the sensation. His hands run over her denim-clad thighs and work their way up her torso until they come to rest at the only remaining fabric on her upper body. 

The, “Jemma,” that he whispers against her neck is raspy, his brogue thicker than he’s ever heard it before, and laced with the desperation and desire he’s feeling. Apparently her previously mentioned affinity for Scottish accents was more truthful than she’d let on because Jemma moans at the sound of his voice and shifts her hips against his in eagerness. 

“Oh _fuck.”_ He thinks his eyes may actually get stuck at the back of his head given how far they’ve rolled at her movements. He lets his hands grasp her breasts and knead the still-covered flesh as she pants his name in his ear and continuously arches against him. Her own hands are running up and down his back and he feels her nails scratch into him as he shifts his hips from where they’re cradled between her thighs, giving them the friction that they’re both craving. 

“God _Fitz!”_ The sound of his name on Jemma’s lips is addictive and he grinds into her again, groaning at the choked gasps that echo in his ear. It’s still not enough though and he grumbles in frustration at the teasing that he and Jemma are putting themselves through. 

Jemma must share his sentiment because her legs unwind from where they’d been wrapped around him and she pushes at his chest. He lets a whimper escape at the immediate loss of contact but eagerly follows her movements once he realizes what it is she’s trying to get him to do. Their bodies shift until it’s _him_ that is lying down on the bed with her straddling his waist and bracketing him between her legs. 

Fitz doesn’t hesitate to grasp her hips in his hands and watches reverently as Jemma’s hands move behind her back to unclasp the bra. She lets it fall off her chest before tossing it to the side and he is left gobsmacked by the sight. His hands move before he can fully register what’s happening and in a moment they’re cupping her exposed breasts, teasing them as her arms fall to either side of his head, supporting her weight as her mouth descends on his. 

He doesn’t know which task is more distracting to the other but he’s not willing to give up either just yet. He leans up to press his mouth more firmly against Jemma’s while simultaneously allowing his hands to knead at the flesh beneath them, moving his thumb in sweeping arches over her nipples and moaning as the motion causes Jemma to buck against him. 

Her hands move to his chest and her lips follow the movement, releasing his mouth and moving down his throat before lingering at the skin over his hammering heart. She levers herself up, pushing her arms against his shoulders, and his own body quickly follows. Fitz sits up, letting his hands slowly trace her spine and his mouth moves to her chest to pick up where his fingers had left off.

He nips and sucks at the skin between the swell of her breasts before he moves his mouth left and rolls his tongue against her pebbled nipple. 

Jemma gasps the moment he makes contact and her hands immediately move to grip his hair. For a moment he worries that she’ll use her grasp to pull him away but the concern quickly disappears when she instead pulls him closer and arches further into him. He takes note of her subtle hints and uses her gasps and moans to figure out what she finds most pleasurable. 

He’d be more than happy to spend the remainder of the evening with his mouth latched on Jemma’s chest, nipping and sucking while alternating between each breast, but she clearly has other plans because after an especially coordinated flick of his tongue she grabs his face and slams her lips to his in a kiss that makes him painfully aware of the physical reaction he’s having to her. 

He’d been aroused since their first kiss in the hallway but now, with Jemma sitting so achingly close to his erection, the urgency to actually _be_ with her has become that much more prevalent. 

“ _Jem…”_ He can’t even finish her name because one of her hands has moved to rub him through his jeans, leaving him unable to form a coherent thought, let alone an audible sentence. Her movements are slow and controlled and he knows that _she_ knows how much of an effect she’s having on him. She presses her weight into him, replacing the rub of her fingers with a swivel of her hips, and he flops backwards onto the bed with a raspy moan. He’s expecting her to follow, to topple over him and kiss him with the fervency he’d come to expect, and is instead surprised as she raises herself to her knees, lifting herself off him and shuffling back along the bed. He lifts his head up in question and promptly thwacks it back on the mattress when sees what she’s doing and feels her undo the snap of his jeans, groaning as he hears the rasp of the zipper. 

Fitz lifts his hips when he feels her hands begin to tug at the denim and throws an arm over his eyes as he feels the fabric slowly make its way down his legs, freeing him from the confines of the jeans. His breathing becomes more erratic and he pushes himself up, leaning against his arms, and watches Jemma rid him of his pants, tossing them unceremoniously in the same general vicinity as her discarded bra. 

His boxer-briefs are doing little to hide how excited he is by the display and Jemma grins cheekily at him as she notices his arousal. He’s a bit embarrassed and leans back against the pillows. The embarrassment quickly transforms to unbridled excitement when her hands slowly move over his legs. They press firmly into his shins, moving up to his thighs before bypassing his _very_ obvious erection, and coming to rest at his waist. She moves forward, crawling over him up the bed, and comes to a halt when her arms bracket his torso, her knees bracket his hips, and her face is level with his own. She is hovering over him, tantalizingly close to where he wants her to be, and he can feel the warmth that is radiating off of her. 

She leans in slowly, unblinking, until her lips are barely grazing his own. “Happy to see me Fitz?” She then pulls back slightly to grin at him and he feels his mouth drop open in mock-offense. Her husky tone makes him twitch, something that does not go unnoticed by Jemma, and she laughs as she plants short pecks to every area of his face _other_ than his lips. He narrows his eyes as she giggles above him and quickly uses her unbalanced position to grab her and flip her onto her back before thrusting against her to show her just how _happy_ he really is. 

Her giggling stops abruptly and is replaced by a choked gasp when he rubs against her and murmurs, “ _So_ happy Simmons,” into her ear as he does. 

While a part of him wants to tease her in the same way she’d teased him, a much, _much,_ larger part wants to end the teasing all together. He gives her a passionate kiss before moving his way down her body, briefly pausing to run his tongue over each of her breasts, laying kisses across her stomach before running his tongue along the flesh just above the waistband of her jeans. 

Jemma’s back arches against the bed and he can see her hands fisting into the bedspread. He pops the button of her jeans and shakily pulls down the zipper, pausing briefly to shift back up and place a languid kiss against her lips. He explores her mouth before once again shifting lower, swirling his tongue around one pert nipple in an attempt to distract her from processing where his hand is moving. He busies his mouth on her as his fingers slip between her jeans and underwear and begin to stroke lazy circles against her. 

The reaction is immediate as Jemma jerks against him, pressing herself closer and writhing at the sensations that his mouth and hands are causing. _“Fitz!”_

He smiles against her chest and returns his mouth to hers while continuing the slow rub of his fingers. Her hands grip his head tightly and she kisses him as best she can between the choked gasps and moans that he draws from her. He can feel himself twitch against her again and knows that if he doesn’t keep things moving, the night will end far sooner than either of them would like. 

He retracts his hand, swallowing Jemma’s whimper at the loss of contact, and gives her one more lingering kiss before he moves back down to remove her jeans. She eagerly lifts her hips off the bed to make things easier for him and he loops his fingers through her belt loops, tugging at the denim in earnest. 

As he pulls the jeans down he takes the opportunity to drop chaste kisses against the swaths of flesh that become exposed with each tug of the fabric. He lingers at her thighs, simply because he enjoys the way Jemma trembles each time he presses his lips to her sensitive flesh. 

When he reaches the foot of the bed, he makes one final tug and all but tears the jeans away from Jemma’s body, throwing them towards the growing pile of clothes on the floor. It’s his turn to crawl over her and he doesn’t stop until he’s close enough to capture her lips in a lazy kiss. The kiss starts slow, a mutual exploration of each other’s mouths, but quickly turns into a duel between tongues. 

They match each other lick for bite and Fitz groans against her mouth when she raises the stakes and reaches to grasp him through his briefs, not breaking the kiss and instead waiting for him to admit defeat. He gladly does, pulling away from her lips with a gasp and pressing himself into her palm as his mouth latches on to his favorite spot on her neck, already marked by his past exploration. Her name becomes a mantra on his lips as he whispers it over and over against her skin. She continues working him through the thin fabric and he moves his hand to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers in an attempt to even the playing field. After a few moments, the silence only broken by their labored breathing, he realizes that the contact is both too much and not enough. 

Jemma must come to the same realization because in the next moment he feels her fingers slip under the elastic of his boxers and grip him firmly in her hand. He jerks into her, unable to control his reaction to her ministrations, and shakily exhales against her once he realizes he’s been holding his breath. 

Not willing to give her the satisfaction of giving _him_ satisfaction, he slowly moves his hand from her chest, letting his dull nails scratch against her abdomen, and moves his fingers beneath her underwear. Her grip slackens at his initial contact and then tightens immediately as one finger steadily slips into her, thumb moving leisurely against her clit. He both hears and feels her gasp of pleasure and copies it with one of his own as her thumb brushes over the tip of his cock. 

This of course starts a new game, each of them trying to outdo each other in a bid to get a larger reaction. He rubs the heel of his palm against her, and she slowly grazes her fingers down the vein at the underside of him. He crooks his fingers within her, rubbing against her most sensitive areas, which causes her to twist her wrist on the down stroke. Their foreheads are pressed together and when their eyes meet, their movements suddenly stop as they both shift to crash their mouths together in a silent truce.

When they break away for air and he sees her flushed cheeks and hooded eyes, he realizes how long it’s been since he’s heard his name cross her lips. Fitz moves down her body and hooks his fingers in the elastic of her underwear, nervously quirking his eyebrow at her in a silent question. Jemma’s mouth falls open slightly and he watches as her eyes flit from his questioning gaze to where his hands rest at her hips. When her eyes return to his they’re almost black in color and, as she slowly nods her head in permission, he’s sure that his turn just as dark. 

He pulls the last scrap of fabric down her legs and audibly swallows at the sight of a fully nude Jemma Simmons. He realizes he may have stared too long because when his eyes lock on hers again, she seems visibly self-conscious, as if she’s worried about how he sees her. This won’t do for Fitz because he firmly believes that anyone as stunning as Jemma should be told so as frequently as possible. So he does just that. 

He leans down, placing a tender kiss to her hip, and whispers, “Beautiful,” adoringly against her skin. When he glances back up her apprehension is gone and she’s smiling bashfully down at him. The smile disappears, transforming into an open-mouthed gape, as he shifts slightly and swipes his tongue across her folds. 

Fitz hears her shaky inhalation of breath and knows that it tends to be a predecessor for a particularly arousing gasp, so he moves his tongue again. He’s slower this time, moving at an almost glacial pace until he finishes his arc with a rapid flick and suck of her clit. 

Jemma bucks into him and he takes it as a sign that he’s doing something right. He presses forward, using his tongue to explore her and discover which flicks and dips coax the loudest moans from her. He mentally catalogs each of her reactions and makes sure to use his mouth to elicit every array of gasps and whimpers that he can. He moves his body slightly so that her legs are resting on his shoulders and takes the opportunity to slide his hands up the mattress, remove hers from where they’re fisted into the duvet, and tangle his fingers with her own. 

Her gasps and moans are becoming more frequent but he’s still waiting to discover what he needs to do in order to hear… 

“God, _Fitz!”_

_There it is._

He wraps his lips and tongue around the sensitive nub and wants to shout in joy as Jemma’s own shouts ring throughout the room. He hears his name cross her lips over and over again and is 90% sure that it’s not a hallucination, that she is _actually_ moaning his name in pleasure and doesn’t seem to intend to stop anytime soon. 

Fitz disentangles one of his hands from hers, softly petting her stomach before slowly working a finger into her and crooking it in time with the flicking of his tongue. Her free hand moves to grip his hair, tugging softly and tightening each time his lips suck at the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

He can confidently say that never in his life has he been as aroused as he is in this moment and he pushes his hips into the mattress in an attempt to gain some relief. He’s not sure it does any good because he loses all concern for his own arousal and is once again overcome with the need to watch Jemma fall apart around him. 

He redoubles his efforts, alternating between quick flicks and gentle sucks as his fingers stroke within her. When the fingers of one hand tighten in his hair and the fingers of the other grip his hand he hums against her clit and watches her break apart as she shouts a gasped, _“Yes, Fitz!”_

Her hips buck against him and he continues to lap at her folds, slowly extracting his fingers to stroke her hip and soothe her through her climax. After a few moments her body goes lax and her moans turn into breathy pants. He presses kisses along her hips and follows the now familiar path up her stomach, between her breasts, and across her neck, before finally capturing her lips with his. She sighs into his mouth when they break apart, keeping her eyes closed as a smile of contentment crosses her face. 

When her eyes reopen and she catches sight of him grinning down at her, Jemma bursts out laughing. He’s a bit startled by her reaction, not sure if he should be happy or discomforted by her amusement, and leans back a bit to get a better look at her. Well, he _tries_ to lean back. Jemma’s having none of that and her hand comes to wrap around the back of his head, pulling him towards her before he can even move two inches. 

Her laughter has died down and she’s smiling at him as if she has a secret, an inside joke with herself that he isn’t privy to. He wants to pout, maybe guilt her into sharing, but the thought disappears the moment she leans up and kisses him slowly. He loses himself in the kiss, moving his tongue with hers and not worrying about anything other than the sure press of her lips. 

Then she starts laughing into his mouth and he pulls away sharply. 

“What? What the bloody hell are you laughing at right now?!” 

This only seems to set her off because her giggling increases and Fitz grumbles at her while lifting his body off of her. Again, his attempt to move away is thwarted by Jemma who quickly grabs him and flips him so that she is straddling him, pinning his arms above his head against the mattress. His irritation dwindles once again as he takes in the sight of Jemma above him but he narrows his eyes at her anyways. 

She leans forward so that her lips graze his. “I was just thinking…” 

Her hips shift and rub against him, causing his mouth to drop open in a silent gasp. “…about how I never would have guessed…” 

She captures his mouth in a languid kiss before her tongue runs along his jaw and her mouth whispers in her ear. “…that you could actually use that mouth of yours for good instead of evil.” 

Fitz processes her words, realizing what it his she’s getting at, and wants to respond with an indignant retort concerning his shock regarding her own _practices,_ but then her teeth pull at his ear lobe and his mind goes completely blank. Not willing to give her this upper hand, he decides that the best response is to simply counter her actions, so his hands wander to cup her bottom and he tugs her down so that she is rubbing against his own arousal.

“I don’t know Simmons… I thought I was still using my mouth for rather wicked purposes…” 

She looks as though she’s about to laugh again so he shifts his hips and ruts against her. Her mouth drops open and her hands come to rest against his chest as she leans into him. She grinds against him for a few moments, him spurning her on with his grip on her hips, before they look down and simultaneously realize that he’s still _far_ too clothed for their next activity. 

Jemma’s hands immediately move to the elastic of his boxers as his hips lift off the bed. Her body moves down the bed and her fingers quickly tug the last remaining garment off of his legs. His desire to please Jemma had done a decent job of distracting him from his own arousal, but now that he is free from the confines of his boxers, all he can focus on is his need to experience something equally pleasurable. 

He’s not expecting Jemma’s mouth to immediately wrap around him the moment his boxers drop to the floor, but as is generally the case with her, she does the unexpected. Her tongue runs along the underside of his cock, twirling against the tip as her mouth moves away from the base. He lets out a choked gasp at the sensation and slams his head down against the mattress when looking at her becomes too much to handle. It only took one second of eye contact, her smoldering amber eyes boring into his wide blue ones, for him to realize that watching her head bob up and down would end things far too soon for his liking. 

He shuts his eyes and tangles his hands in the sheets, focusing only on the sensations that Jemma’s lips and tongue are causing. His eyes fly open and his entire body tenses as she takes him fully into her mouth and hums. A guttural moan leaves him as her mouth repeats the motion, adding a flick of her tongue that has him bucking against her. 

“ _Jemma… Jem… Jem…”_

His hands move to her cheeks as he tries to get her attention and when she glances up at him he has to take a moment to gain control over his erratic breathing. She releases him with an audible pop that has him swallowing with a whimper. His chest is rising and falling rapidly and he can feel his heart hammering twice as fast as normal. 

“Fitz?” She’s looking up at him in question, waiting for him to speak, but he can only focus on the way that her fingers have moved to stroke him in place of her mouth. 

“I don’t… I don’t… I want…” He can’t get the words out, too distracted by her gentle caresses, but hopes that she can pick up on his silent plea. 

Her movements slow and a look of uncertainty crosses her face. He realizes she must think he’s not enjoying their current venture and moves his thumb across her cheek as tenderly as he can. She leans into his touch and softly whispers, “What do you want Fitz?” 

He stares down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and tangled hair, and finds himself drowning in a wave of emotion. She’s quickly become his reason to smile and he doesn’t want to ever stop. He’s never been more truthful when he mumbles, “You.” 

Jemma seems to understand what he’s getting at because her face softens and she looks at him with such affection that he thinks he may burst. She gives him one last pleasurable stroke before working her mouth up his body, starting at his stomach and ending at his mouth. She kisses him softly and he copies her movements, holding her head tenderly in his hands and pouring everything he has into the exchange. 

He shifts slightly, skimming against her with his cock, and groans at the fleeting feeling caused by the contact. He wants more than a brief brush and moves his hands down her back until they are gripping her tightly. “Mmmm… _condom_.” His voice is raspy against her lips and he whimpers when she moves away to blindly reach in the drawer beside the bed. 

Her lips return to his before she sits back, leans her weight against his thighs, and uses her teeth to tear the foil packet in her hand. His hands squeeze at the sight and he watches as she fumbles, twitching against him slightly, when his fingers skim between her thighs. She pulls the condom from its packet before she leans forward, grasping him in her hands and begins to slowly and deliberately roll it down his length. 

His eyes roll backwards, both at the contact and at the promise of what’s to come. 

Once the condom is in place Jemma shifts her hips forward, lining him up with her and teasingly holding him at her entrance. He lets out a rather pathetic whine that she cuts off with a kiss. She sinks onto him and the whine turns into an all out moan as he relishes in the feeling of finally being inside her. She’s wrapped around him tightly and when he’s pressed fully into her they both pause their movements and adjust to the feeling. 

Fitz wants to kiss her more than anything so he leans up with the intention of doing so. Instead, the new angle causes Jemma to gasp in pleasure and grasp his shoulders as her head is thrown back. He decides to forego kissing her and instead latches his mouth to her throat as he moves below her for the first time. He uses his grasp on her to lift her until only an inch of him is surrounded by her slick heat and then pushes her back down in time with his own thrust up. 

Her nails scrape along his back as she moans in his ear. He repeats the movement and their breathing quickly transforms into erratic panting. The next time Jemma sinks onto him he gives a twist of his hips that causes her to collapse into him with a choked groan, her face in the crook of his neck and her lips whispering inaudibly against his flesh. He pauses for a moment and she takes the opportunity to grind against him, pressing her clit into him and allowing his cock to brush against a spot within her that leaves her whimpering. 

He’s deep within her and Jemma’s grinding movements are having just as great an effect on him as they’re clearly having on her. He moves a hand to rub against her clit and he feels a sharp sting as she nips at his collarbone when he makes contact. The sting dissipates instantly when her tongue laves against the bite but he still jerks into her at the sensation. 

The extra push seems to spurn Jemma into action because she raises herself off of him and slams back down with a force that has Fitz choking against her. He can feel the heat pooling within him, growing as her own slickness grips around him, and knows that it won’t be much longer until he’s gasping against her in completion. He meets her motions, snapping his hips up as she falls down, and begins working his thumb rhythmically against her sensitive nub as he does. 

He can feel the telltale flutter of her walls as she moves above him and he grabs her hips to pull her hard against him, thrusting up with renewed fervor and moving his mouth to her breast as he licks and sucks in time with the rapid thrust of his hips. He keeps her steady with a firm grip on her hips and quickens his pace as she begins to gasp his name into his ear. 

He knows he’s hit _the_ spot within her when her arms cling to him and she shouts in ecstasy. Her weight collapses on top of him and her hips twitch sporadically as her walls contract around him and her orgasm breaks over her. He can feel all of her muscles slacken and he uses his hands once more to raise her off of him, giving one final thrust as he pulls her back down and feels his own orgasm rush through him. 

He tightens his hold on her hips, keeping her securely wrapped around him as he pants against her neck and shakily jerks into her. He revels in the feeling of the chemicals rushing through him and moans against her throat as he spills into the condom. Their bodies are slick with sweat and he tastes the saltiness on her skin as his mouth works its way up her neck before pressing chaste kisses across her face. He’s too out of breath to fuse his lips to hers so he makes sure to make brief contact with every other bit of flesh he can reach from this position.

Their chests are heaving against each other and the only sound in the room is their slowing pants. His arms are wound loosely around her waist and hers are thrown over his shoulders. Their faces burrow into the crooks of each other’s necks and they stay like that until the erratic thumping of their hearts returns to a slightly more normal pace. He can feel hers beating against his chest and is sure that she feels something similar against her own. 

Jemma moves her head back and places a languid kiss against his lips before lifting her body up and off him. He whimpers at the loss of contact but smiles as Jemma promptly collapses onto her back next to him, staring at the ceiling with a grin as her hand moves to cover her heart. He quickly rids himself of the condom, tossing it into the bin beside the bed, before lying down next to her in a position that mirrors her own. 

Their chests are still heaving and Fitz lets the wave of bliss consume him. He moves his hand slightly and strokes his pinky against Jemma’s, smiling as she doesn’t hesitate to link them together. He turns his head slightly and examines her profile as she continues to avoid his gaze and stare at the ceiling. Eventually she chuffs out a small laugh and rotates her head so that their eyes meet. 

They’re locked in a companionable silence but he feels the need to break it. “That was…” 

“ _More_ than satisfactory. And a long time coming… no pun intended.” 

He bursts out laughing at this and rolls over her, pinning her to the mattress with a beaming smile. “Long time coming huh? Are you saying that you fancy me Jemma Simmons? Is this your way of telling me that you’ve fancied me since the moment I crashed into you and every moment after?” He’s grinning down at her and reveling in the easy camaraderie between them, still able to joke and tease even now. 

Her own grin softens as she looks up at him with a small smile and light in her eyes. “Yes it is.” Her words are soft but the sincerity behind them causes his heart to quicken. He feels a bit silly getting so emotional but he can’t help the way his throat tightens and his eyes moisten _slightly and only for a second._ He leans down to press a slow kiss to her lips, trying to convey how much her admission mirrors his own feelings. He doesn’t want the kiss to be his only confirmation though, so when he pulls away he whispers, “Good. Because the same goes for me.” 

Jemma’s smile widens at this and his thumb moves of its own volition to tenderly swipe across her cheekbone. Her hand moves to his head and he sighs in contentment, closing his eyes and leaning into the fingers that begin to softly stroke against his temple. Fitz moves his hand to hers, pressing it against his face before twining their fingers together and propping his chin against her abdomen. 

They spend who knows how long staring at each other with matching smiles of adoration, talking in whispers about every subject that comes up, save the one elephant in the room that neither feel the need to broach. He’s never felt quite so buoyant and oftentimes stops mid-sentence to simply look at Jemma, listening with rapt attention to whatever it is he’s blabbering about, and lean up to kiss her affectionately before resuming his talking. Eventually they’re both too exhausted to continue and Fitz falls asleep with his arms wrapped around Jemma’s waist, his head on her stomach, and her fingers running softly through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye forever. I'll be hiding under the nearest rock if you need me.
> 
> Chapter 16: "The Morning After" shall be posted tomorrow.


	16. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz wakes up in a strange apartment with a very pretty girl in his arms. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who opted to skip the last chapter here’s what you missed: Fitz and Simmons slept together and then they fell asleep. That’s literally all that happened.

Fitz wakes up to an irritating buzzing and a warm weight tucked against his chest. He blinks his eyes wearily and takes a moment to allow his mind to remember in vivid detail the events of last night. Taking a deep breath, he inhales a floral scent that causes an immediate warmth to bloom within his chest. He looks at the slumbering woman that he’s spooned up against and grins at the sight. 

Jemma is still sleeping deeply which provides him with the opportunity to stare in wonder as her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. He burrows his face further into the crook of her neck and grins against her shoulder as the movement causes her to snuggle closer to him and release a contented sigh. He worries for a moment that he may have woken her and holds his breath until he’s sure that she’s still peacefully sleeping. 

Fitz allows his arm to tug her closer and beams once more as her own arm unconsciously moves to rest atop his as her fingers twine with his own. His gaze takes in as much of her as he can while pressed so close to her and he marvels at the bare skin that is left uncovered by the blanket. He wants to press his lips against each of the small freckles that litter her shoulders but is afraid that she might wake at the contact. 

_Maybe in a few minutes._

Fitz is more than content watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as each inhale pushes her into him. He’s in complete awe of her and can hardly believe how lucky he is that such an extraordinary woman has, by some miracle, taken an interest in _him_. It’s a bit ridiculous but a part of him genuinely wants to pinch himself to make sure that this is real. That he’s here, and Jemma’s here, and _they’re_ here. _Together._  

Fitz is broken out of his reverie by another incessant round of buzzing and he turns towards the source of the noise. His jeans, lying on the floor where they’d been thrown the night before, are emitting a soft light that he realizes is from the glow of his cell phone. The last thing he wants to do is move away from Jemma but he knows that if the buzzing had been loud enough to rouse him from his slumber, it’s only a matter of time before it wakes Jemma too. He’d rather just let her wake naturally so he slowly extracts his arm from beneath hers, stilling when she shifts beneath him and turns until she is lying on her back with her head tilted towards him and her hand laying across her stomach. 

Fitz completely forgets about his phone at this point, instead the only thing he can focus on is the way Jemma’s hair is splayed out on the pillow and the way her entire face relaxes as she sleeps. He can’t help himself from softly stroking her cheek with his fingers and feels his breath catch when she smiles in her sleep and turns to burrow further into the pillow. 

He wants to stay here forever. 

Of course this means his phone buzzes again and Fitz suddenly has the desire to just get up and take a sledgehammer to the damn thing. Instead he behaves a bit more rationally and slowly slips off of the bed, careful not to disturb Jemma any more than he already has. He locates his boxer briefs at the foot of the bed and pulls them on before walking over to his jeans and extracting his phone from the back pocket. 

His mouth drops open when he sees that he has eleven missed calls, two from Skye and nine from Mack, and a slew of unread text messages. Apparently only six of the calls were deemed important enough to justify leaving a voicemail though. He punches in his voicemail code and holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for the messages to play. 

The first message is from Skye and he grins the second he hears her voice carry over the receiver. 

_Leopold Fitz you sly dog! Imagine my surprise when I walked into our apartment this morning only to find it suspiciously empty. And then imagine my even **greater** surprise when, while doing **your** roommate duty of checking the mail, I ran into nosy Mrs. Sheffield from across the hall who told me that you never came home last night. So help me god Fitz, if you are not in a hotel room or a bedroom located in apartment 6C with one Jemma Simmons, I will never speak to you again. Have fun… and don’t forget to use protection! I’m not at a point in my life where I want to babysit the genius child that you two will undoubtedly have together._ 

Fitz rolls his eyes at her warning but can’t stop his mind from briefly envisioning a curly haired, amber-eyed, child with a penchant for the STEM fields. He blinks owlishly at the thought and shakes his head to rid his mind of the image. It’s _way_ to soon for those kinds of thoughts and he’d hate to freak himself or Jemma out by imagining such things. He ends up saving Skye’s message though, simply because it’ll be another nice reminder of the best night of his life. 

**MESSAGE SAVED**  

**_Next Message:_ ** _Turbo! Mack here. I’m sitting here at the SHIELD offices flipping through the notes for the presentation. I thought you were going to come meet me to go through some stuff before the rest of the guys show up? No sweat if you’re held up just shoot me a text when you can._

The blood rushes out of Fitz’s face the moment he hears Mack’s voice. It’s the third Saturday of the month. _It’s the third Saturday of the month_ , which means that this morning was the scheduled SHIELD meeting. He’d _completely_ forgotten about it, the meeting that _he_ had planned ages ago for the group to share data and figure out the next plan of attack against SciTech. 

“Oh _no_ …” 

**MESSAGE DELETED**  

**_Next Message:_** _Fitz, people are starting to show up. They’re just now trickling in so no need to worry about rushing to get here but… Actually forget that, it probably would be a good idea to rush over. You know how impatient Hunter gets when he has to wait for anything._  

“Shit, shit, shit _.”_

**MESSAGE DELETED**

**_Next Message:_** _Hey Fitz, Mack again. We’re all here now, just waiting on you. Call me when you get this._  

**MESSAGE DELETED**

**_Next Message:_ ** _Fitz! Where the hell are you man! This meeting has been scheduled for weeks and we have a lot of major stuff to get through! I’m going to go ahead and start in five minutes whether you show up or not. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you lately Fitz, it’s not like you to bail on something this important._

“Oh _fuck_ …” 

**MESSAGE DELETED**

**_Next Message:_** _Seeing as you missed the meeting completely, I figured I should at least let you know that we just found out that your little scientist friend’s grant went through. The NIH has officially green-lit the GH325 research and SciTech got six million dollars worth of federal money to fund the project. They’re likely going to quadruple their live animal sample-size for all of the testing that they’re going to end up conducting. Hope whatever you’re doing is worth finding out that nothing we’ve done over the past few months has been enough to stop those lowlifes._  

Fitz slowly lowers his phone and looks at the woman who is still asleep in bed. She’s sleeping just as soundly as she was before, completely unaware of the fact that he had just received news that essentially destroyed everything he’s spent the past few years working towards. Fitz feels as though he might throw up when he realizes that, while _he_ feels like a weight is crushing him, when Jemma heard the same news she likely jumped for joy in celebration of her accomplishments. 

A grant that big meant that the research papers she had submitted for review were likely of the highest caliber. Fitz had spent enough time in a professional science setting to know how competitive it can be, and how it can take _years_ to write a grant that the NIH feels is worthy of funding. Jemma had been at SciTech, what? A year at _max?_ Her proposal must have been impeccable and her findings were likely insurmountable if the NIH was so quick to hand her their money. And all she’s had at her disposal so far were the leftover funds that SciTech had managed to scrounge up for her. 

Now Jemma has over six million dollars to put towards confirming her findings and conducting _years_ worth of research on the drug he’d tried to destroy and the animals that SHIELD has been desperately trying to save. 

And Fitz is just standing here in her bedroom feeling as though he might implode from the despondent feelings that are slowly shattering him. She looks so peaceful while he likely looks as though he’s on the verge of tears. What had been the best night of his life has been followed by what feels like the start of the worst day. 

The irony isn’t lost at him. It’s been less than fourteen hours since he’d said that he and Jemma were on opposing sides during the day and this has only confirmed it. He was right. A night of good conversation and great sex hadn’t changed anything. It doesn’t matter how much he wishes it did because with the buzzing of his phone and the rising of the sun came the sharp slap of reality. 

Jemma Simmons works for SciTech and he, Leo Fitz, works for SHIELD. 

He can’t help thinking back to Mack’s previous words. 

_That’s not going to work out man_ , _you know that right?_  

He knows. He finally knows. 

He thought he knew then but look where he’s ended up: in the bedroom of a beautiful woman at the expense of his personal goals and aspirations. He’d selfishly tried to have the best of both worlds and ended up screwing up everything by _literally_ screwing the woman of his dreams; who happens to also be the one person responsible for his current feelings of failure. 

Fitz doesn’t know what he’d been expecting. Mack had been right from the beginning. There had never been any chance of him and Jemma working out. He shouldn’t have let Skye encourage him and he _definitely_ shouldn’t have deluded himself into believing that he’d ever have a chance at being the guy who gets both the girl _and_ the win over SciTech. 

Fitz is overcome by a crippling hopelessness that makes him want to curl up in a corner and cry. He’s always been a man of science, always preferring the tangible to the incorporeal, but he can’t help lamenting to the universe about the unfairness of the fate that’s been given to him. 

When he was younger, living with his mother in a small apartment outside of Glasgow, he used to wish that his life could mirror one of his favorite pieces of literature. His advanced intellect provided him with few friends so he’d immerse himself in story after story and live vicariously through his favorite characters. He’d always had an affinity for William Shakespeare and would spend hours reading his plays and fantasizing about how exciting his life would be if it were a bit more like those of Shakespeare’s creations. 

He wishes now that he’d been a bit more specific with his childhood dreaming. He’d wished for his life to be more like Shakespeare’s work and instead of one of the comedies he’d loved so much, he’s been thrown into the most cliché of the tragedies. Now that SciTech is the Capulet to SHIELD’s Montague, and he is the Romeo to Jemma’s Juliet, he wishes his younger self had just been content with the damn life he’d been given and kept his desires to himself and out of the universe. 

Fitz takes in his surroundings and realizes that this moment is his metaphorical fork in the road. He has two options and both will cost him something that he’s not entirely sure he can live without. He glances at his phone, eyes skimming the texts he’d received from Mack and some of the other SHIELD members, and feels his heart sink into his gut as he realizes which path he’ll likely take.

He’s spent too much time and energy with SHIELD to give up now. The people welcomed him with open arms years ago and have been nothing but supportive and encouraging ever since. He’d spent hundreds of hours combining his own fund of knowledge with the research he’d conducted in order to come up with everything necessary to protest SciTech’s practices. 

He’s not willing to let it all be a waste. 

Fitz takes another look at Jemma who is still sleeping serenely on her bed completely unaware of his dilemma. She’s on her side again, facing him and clutching at the pillow that he’d spent the night sleeping on. She’s absolutely stunning in the soft light streaming in through the window and he’s certain that he’ll never see a sight more beautiful. There’s a small smile on her face but instead of filling him with a pleasant warmth as it did before, it now floods him with an unwelcome chill that feels as though it will suffocate him. 

He feels tears begin to pool in his eyes and he is overwhelmed by the urge to viciously break something. 

_This isn’t fair._

But life is never fair so Fitz takes a shaky breath and picks his jeans off of the floor, tugging the denim up his legs as quickly and silently as he can. His shirt follows shortly after and once it’s on he throws a cursory glance around the room to make sure he isn’t leaving anything behind, all the while resolutely avoiding looking at the bed and the person in it. 

Once Fitz is satisfied that he’ll be leaving with everything he’d entered with, he tiptoes his way to the door. He _knows_ that turning back will only make things more difficult in the long run but he can’t help himself from getting one last look. Fitz turns around and stands for a minute, doing nothing but memorizing the way that Jemma looks in this moment. He wants to never forget this image so he takes the time to note every detail: the tendrils of hair that frame her face, the eyelashes that flutter against her cheek, the way her face is burrowed in her own pillow as her arm is wrapped tightly around his, and most importantly, the soft smile that had recently been so often directed at him. 

Fitz wants to stride across the room and wake her with a kiss that conveys all of the adoration he has for her, and it is this thought alone that makes him realize that it’s time to leave. 

He turns sharply and exits her bedroom, scooping up the sneakers that he had somehow managed to kick off in the hallway as he pressed Jemma against the wall the night before, and makes his way to towards the front door of her apartment. 

Fitz braces his hand against the wall, ignoring the flashbacks that the position brings forth, and swiftly tugs his shoes on. He reaches for the knob, turning it slowly so as not to make a sound, and swings the door open. He sighs before taking another deep breath and stepping out of the apartment, closing the door behind him without a backwards glance. 

It’s not until he’s walked halfway down the street that Fitz shoves his hands into his pockets, feels the small plastic SciTech key fob, and realizes that he never did end up returning it to Jemma. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* Oh Fitz.
> 
> Remember that whole 'downward slope, don't get too used to FitzSimmons happiness,' thing I warned you about? Here it begins. Emphasis on begins. There will be a very clear bottom and we DEFINITELY haven't reached that point yet. Get ready folks because the angst-era is among us.
> 
> But, again, happy endings are where it's at so... hang in there.
> 
> Chapter 17: 'SHIELD + SciTech > Jemma Simmons' shall be posted sometime on Tuesday.
> 
> Many many thanks for reading/commenting/kudosing. It is always genuinely appreciated by me and makes me feel positively swell.


	17. SHIELD + SciTech > Jemma Simmons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz's actions of late upset more than one person and he BEGINS to face the consequences.

After leaving Jemma’s apartment Fitz decides to steer clear of his own. Skye will be there and even if she isn’t, it’ll only be a matter of time before she crashes through the door demanding details. He doesn’t want to explain to her what had happened between him and Jemma last night and is even less inclined to explain why he hadn’t stuck around to see if _it_ could happen again this morning.

 Skye had only known the other girl for a short period of time but they’d already grown incredibly close. Fitz knows that he and Skye are basically everything to each other, but he’s also aware that Jemma has quickly taken the role of the female friend in Skye’s life, willing to go shopping and gossip far more than Fitz is. Skye’s gotten rather attached to the other girl and Fitz doesn’t feel like disappointing his best friend by telling her about his one-night-standing of Jemma. 

So instead of going home and curling up in a ball on the floor of his closet like he wants to, Fitz lets his feet carry him to the SHIELD office, where he won’t have to worry about disappointing anyone since he’s already done it. 

It takes him about twenty minutes longer than usual to get there because his feet are dragging slowly against the pavement. He also turns around four times to walk back to Jemma’s and pretend he’d just left to get coffee, but then he replays Mack’s angry voicemails and does another 180 spin to push himself towards SHIELD and away from Jemma. 

When Fitz finally reaches the office he hesitates outside of the door for a few minutes. He can see people milling about through the clear windows and sighs as he opens the door and steps forward. 

“Well look who decided to show up! Hey Mack, look, it’s Fitz. You know, the guy who forced everybody to wake up on a _Saturday_ for a mandatory SHIELD meeting and then NEVER SHOWED UP HIMSELF.” Hunter’s voice is coming from where he’s laying down on the couch in the corner. It’s laced with its usual sarcasm but Fitz would have to be an idiot not to note the genuine irritation behind Hunter’s words. 

The other SHIELD members that are still in the office grow silent and look at Fitz who’s standing sheepishly in front of the door. He opens his mouth to apologize but is cut off by Mack’s booming voice before he can even get a word out. “Fitz!” 

He looks up to where Mack is standing in front of his little office at the back of the large space. The other man’s arms are crossed in front of his chest and he’s staring coolly at Fitz. He jerks his head in the direction of his office before turning around and walking into it. Fitz swallows and runs his hands through his hair as he slowly makes his way across the room and steps into Mack’s office, closing the door gently behind him. 

“Sit.” 

Fitz doesn’t have to be told twice and immediately takes a seat in the chair he usually lounges in during lunches or late-night brainstorming sessions. Now he’s perched rigidly in the seat and holding his breath as his nerves seem to consume him. 

Mack just stares silently at him for a few minutes before quirking an eyebrow and gesturing for Fitz to speak. Fitz swallows audibly at the silent command and opens his mouth before snapping it shut as he decides to give himself a few more minutes to think about what exactly it is that he’s going to say to the man in front of him. He figures that an apology would be the best place to start. 

“Mack, I am _so_ sorry. I completely forgot about this morning’s meeting. I didn’t set an alarm last night, overslept, and didn’t have my phone on me so I didn’t see that I’d missed your…calls… until it was already too late.” 

Mack makes no acknowledgment of the apology and Fitz takes this as a sign that he’s supposed to keep talking. “I realize I’ve been… distracted lately. From SHIELD and from SciTech and all I can say is that the distraction is…” Fitz swallows and digs his fingernails into his thigh, “… is no longer a part of my life. I’m refocused, reprioritized, and recommitted… _fully_ committed to SHIELD.” 

Mack raises a skeptical eyebrow at this and looks as though he might open his mouth to speak so Fitz barrels forth to get the last bit of his explanation in. “I just lost my way for a little bit but hearing about the GH325 grant really put everything back into perspective. Nothing is more important to me right now than working with SHIELD to bring down SciTech.” 

The other man leans back in his chair and stares Fitz down for a few very long and _very_ tense moments. Fitz’s leg is bouncing up and down as he waits for Mack to say _anything_ and when the other man finally opens his mouth, Fitz is surprised when he yells for Hunter. 

Fitz turns around as Hunter opens the door behind him and Mack gestures for the other man to sit in the only vacant seat in the room. Hunter moves past Fitz, flicking his ear as he does, before plopping down in the chair next to him. His eyes flicker between Mack and Fitz and, when nobody says or does anything, Hunter speaks up. “What can I do ya for?” 

Mack’s head turns slightly towards Hunter but his eyes don’t leave Fitz as he speaks. “Hunter, you’re heading up the SciTech protest now.” 

“What?!” 

Both Hunter and Fitz yell the same question simultaneously, and neither seems excited by the new order. Fitz’s mind is moving a mile a minute as he gapes at Mack and attempts to figure out if there is _any_ other way that his words could be taken. 

“Fitz, you’ve been _more_ than distracted lately. You’re late to the daily protests, you don’t show up to meetings, and the _distraction_ that is allegedly _no longer a part of your life_ is calling you as we speak.” 

Fitz’s eyes bug out at this last part and flit to where his cell phone is laying on Mack’s desk. Sure enough, _Jemma Simmons_ is flashing against the screen as the mobile vibrates on the table and his heart immediately begins to hammer in his chest. He hastily snatches the device and quickly taps the little red IGNORE button in the bottom left corner. He feels a flash of pain run through him at the action but ignores it, and the looming guilt, in favor of shutting the phone off completely and shoving it out of sight. He glances up at Mack and sees the other man look at him knowingly as he leans back in his chair. 

“ _That_ Fitz, is why Hunter’s taking over the protest. Because you look like a sad puppy right now and, even if you’re telling the truth about cutting things off with that girl, a breakup can be just as distracting as a relationship.” 

Fitz flinches at the word _breakup_ because he hadn’t even really gotten a chance to _have_ a relationship with Jemma before parting ways. He’s not sure this is something that Mack needs or _wants_ to know though, so he opens his mouth to simply object to the other man’s words. “Listen Mack, I realize that you think I can’t handle this but…” 

He’s cut off almost immediately and his mouth snaps closed as Mack leans forward and speaks. “I actually _do_ think you can handle it Fitz. But the fact of the matter is, you’re _not._ You haven’t handled it for a few weeks now and, though I believe you when you say it’s back to being a priority for you, this protest hasn’t been for awhile now. This has been a SHIELD effort from the get-go and, while you’ve spearheaded the whole damn thing, _everyone_ has been working their asses off to bring down SciTech.” 

“I know but…” 

“Hunter’s been with us every step of the way and we both know that he’s more than capable of taking the lead on this one.” 

“But…” 

“This isn’t permanent Fitz, and it’s not a punishment either. Take the backburner for a week, clear your head, and let Hunter worry about organizing everything. You’ve been instrumental in this entire thing and you still will be. I just don’t want you organizing meetings that you’re not going to show up to, and I think that for right now, the best thing for you and SHIELD is if you spend this week as a _protestor_ instead of an _organizer._ ” 

Fitz falls back dejectedly into his chair as his eyes focus on where his thumbs are twiddling in his lap. It’s silent for a few uncomfortable moments until Hunter shifts in his chair. “Don’t I get a say in this?” 

“No. And you’d better not screw this up Hunter. We’re all counting on you.” Mack looks sternly at the other man who seems to grow slightly paler with each word. 

“Oh god… I dunno Mack… That’s a lot of responsibility…” 

_Damn right it’s a lot of responsibility. It takes a shit load of time, energy, and research to put together a protest of this size._

Mack rolls his eyes at the other man and waves his hand dismissively in an attempt to lessen Hunter’s nerves. “Calm down. I meant what I said; this is a temporary shift of positions. Give it a week and then I’m sure Fitz will be back to his old self and will be eager to take back the reins.” 

Fitz slouches further in his seat and crosses his arms petulantly over his chest as he glares over at Hunter. The other man shrugs his shoulders defensively and then looks back towards Mack. 

“This is a big week you guys. Thanks to Fitz we know how dangerous this GH325 project can be and, now that they have another couple million to pursue it, it’s even more important that we spread the word about SciTech’s questionable practices.” 

Both Fitz and Hunter nod in acquiescence at the other man’s words and the former is reminded once more about why he’d begun this protest in the first place. The men spend another forty minutes in the office, discussing new ideas and plans of attack, and when Fitz leaves he feels happy about the progress that’s been made. He still shoves Hunter into the couch as they walk out of Mack’s office, but he feels far less despondent and irritated about his temporary demotion. 

But the moment Fitz steps out of the SHIELD offices and onto the city street, all he feels is the growing weight of his cellphone in his back pocket. His hand twitches at his side and it takes everything he has not to immediately grab the device and turn it on. He clenches his fists and reasons that the best way of having a clean break is to avoid any and all contact. He feels bile rise in his throat and he viciously scrubs his palms against his face as he walks in an attempt to distract from the sinking feeling in his gut. 

He processes nothing as he walks, not taking note of any of the people, places, or things that he passes, too focused on replaying last night and this morning in his mind. He makes it home without even realizing he’d been heading towards it and slowly makes his way up the stairs to his apartment before stopping to think about what might be on the other side of the door. 

-O- 

The second he pushes the door open he remembers _exactly_ what is on the other side and why he’d been trying to avoid it. 

It being _her_ , and _her_ being Skye. 

She’s sitting on the couch but bolts up the moment she catches sight of him. Her grin is taking up roughly half of her face as she begins to slowly clap. Fitz sighs at the display because the last thing he deserves right now is a round of applause. He carefully shuts the door behind him and kicks of his shoes, feeling sick as he thinks about the frantic manner in which he’d removed them the night before. 

When he turns back around he jumps in surprise because Skye is now a foot away from him, _how does she move so quietly,_ and bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“So?! Tell me everything!” She’s grinning at him and there’s a light in her eyes that Fitz knows he’s about to snuff out. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it Skye.” 

She winces slightly at his words and Fitz hopes that it means his dejected tone was enough of a hint to make her realize that it’s a sore subject for him. Apparently she took his tone to mean something else entirely because she looks at him in sympathy. “Why? Was it bad? Were _you_ bad? I know it’s been awhile Fitz, but I’m sure next time you’ll do bet…” 

He cuts her off sharply before she can finish. “There’s not going to _be_ a next time Skye. It was a one and done.” 

Her mouth drops open at she processes his words and looks at him with an expression of complete bewilderment. 

“A ‘ _one and done_ ’ what the hell does that even _mean_ Fitz?” 

He doesn’t want to say the actual words so he decides to continue with his slightly ambiguous responses in the hopes that they’ll keep Skye confused long enough for him to slip away and lock himself in his bedroom. “It means exactly that. It was a one and done situation. Last night was the _one_ and now it’s _done._ ”

Skye’s confusion lasts for another brief moment before her mouth drops open even further and she looks at him with dawning realization. “Oh my god… Is this you… Is this you telling me that you just had a _one-night stand_ with _Jemma!_ Are… are you _serious_?! Like, you’re actually being serious right now?” 

Fitz moves to brush past her but Skye quickly shifts her body to block his path and he stares angrily down at her. “Listen, I just really don’t want to get into this right now okay? Can you leave me alone for _once_ and just let me have five fucking minutes to myself?!” 

Skye visibly recoils at this and takes a step away from him as her mouth snaps closed. A brief flash of hurt flickers over her eyes before it quickly morphs into anger and she moves closer to him, jabbing him in the chest as she hisses lowly under her breath. “You and Jemma have spent _weeks_ with a cloud of sexual tension surrounding you. You’ve let me dress you in the hopes of impressing her, you reserved a table for her at your freaky tea place, you had a romantic picnic in a goddam _park,_ and _now_ you’re saying douchey stuff like _one and done_ and cursing at me for no fucking reason other the fact that I expressed an interest in your life. I don’t know what the hell happened last night or this morning, but I bet it was your fault.” 

Fitz flinches at both the words and the harsh manner with which Skye had delivered them. He narrows her eyes at her assumption but Skye just steps forward and continues speaking, voice low and full of fury. “Because if it were _Jemma’s_ fault, you’d probably be crying, not acting like a total dick. Also, only assholes sleep with people and then _leave_ Fitz.” 

Skye spins on her heel at this and stomps into her bedroom, shutting the door with so much force that he can feel the vibrations in his feet. 

He moves towards his own room and slams the door behind him hard enough that the picture of him and Skye hanging next to the doorframe falls down and shatters against the floor. “ _Fuck!”_ His fist flies out of its own accord and slams into the drywall next to his door, leaving a hole in the wall that doesn’t seem to be quite as large as the hole in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we begin the downward spiral. When will poor Fitzy hit rock bottom? Soooooooon. Oh boy what a numbskull. "Operation Avoid Simmons" will be posted sometime on Thursday and that chapter will end with something that will cause the climax/major shift/betrayal/bad decision/oh boy don't do it, moment of the story. Yay! Good times.
> 
> Many thanks as always forever and ever for reading! Hopefully you're not sick of this yet!


	18. Operation: Avoid Simmons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz does his best to avoid any interaction with Jemma and, unfortunately, has just as little interaction with Skye. Good thing he has a protest to distract him from his crumbling personal life...

Fitz wakes up the next morning to an aching head, an aching fist, and an aching heart. He doesn’t leave his room all day, intentionally avoiding any sort of interaction with Skye. Yesterday hadn’t ended well and he doesn’t want a repeat of their argument today. 

He also avoids looking at his cellphone. He hadn’t turned it back on since yesterday afternoon and makes no attempt to do so now. Instead he just dozes in his room and stares forlornly out of his window as he is forced to listen to the thoughts that are running rampant in his head. 

It’s the same old cliché of the devil and angel, each sitting on their respective shoulders and whispering advice and thoughts into his ear. Fitz’s problem is that he can’t seem to figure out which side is the devil and which is the angel. 

The part of his brain commending him for dropping Jemma and focusing on the battle between SciTech and SHIELD sounds rather angelic until the other part of his brain chimes in to remind him of what _dropping Jemma_ had actually entailed. He’d finally allowed himself to be selfish, to just be with someone that made him happy, and then promptly left her alone in her apartment without so much as a goodbye. He was worse than most of the sleezeballs on TV because at least _they_ left a note when they snuck out of a woman’s apartment. 

He’d just left without turning back. 

When his stomach starts to growl around 7:30, Fitz slowly makes his way to his bedroom door and opens it gently to avoid alerting Skye to his emergence. As it turns out, he has no need to be quiet because when he reaches the fridge there’s an angrily written note taped to it that reads: _At Trip’s until you stop being a dick._

Fitz sighs at the sight of it and rips it off, crumpling it into a ball before throwing it into the garbage can with more force than what is strictly necessary. His appetite disappears immediately and he ends up leaving the kitchen without even opening the fridge. He moves quickly and with purpose as he strides into his bedroom and snatches his phone from where he’d left it facedown on his nightstand. 

Fitz presses the power button and holds his breath as he watches the screen come to life. He blinks in shock when he sees that he only has two missed calls, both from Jemma and both from yesterday. They were within an hour apart from each other and Fitz feels his heart begin to pound at the realization that Jemma had made no attempt to reach him since. 

_I have two PhDs remember? I’m intelligent enough to realize…_  

Jemma’s previous words play over and over in his head. _To realize…_  

Anything apparently. She’s intelligent enough to realize anything; including the fact that Fitz hadn’t answered his phone that first time for a reason. One missed call is understandable, two is a clear indicator that someone doesn’t want to answer. Jemma had figured this out quickly it seems and Fitz stares down at the one voicemail that she’d left. He wants to play it, wants to hear what it is that Jemma had felt was important enough to say, but knows that if he does he’ll likely lose his resolve. 

If Fitz hears Jemma’s voice, he’ll pick up his phone, dial her number, and beg her to let him take her out on a proper date. He’ll apologize profusely for leaving her and ignoring her call, and will likely provide her with a partial truth; telling her that he got nervous and scared, and left because of it. 

So instead of pressing _PLAY_ , Fitz moves his thumb to the left and clicks _DELETE,_ erasing whatever words, angry or hurt, Jemma had left for him. 

-O- 

Skye still isn’t in the apartment when Fitz wakes up the next morning and gradually gets ready to head to SciTech. He moves at a sluggish pace and makes a real effort to complete his morning routine as slowly as possible. When he sees that he’s only taken an extra three minutes to get ready, Fitz deliberately stands by his apartment door for another fifteen to stall. 

He doesn’t want to risk running into anyone at the crosswalk. 

Once he’s sure that he’s going to be late, Fitz finally exits the apartment and begins to amble his way down the street. When he reaches _their_ crosswalk and sees the DON’T WALK sign, Fitz turns his head down to stare at the ground. He keeps his gaze fixed on his shoes and doesn’t look up until he feels someone tap his shoulder. 

“Hey man, are you Fitz?” 

He turns around and blinks in surprise at the man standing before him. He appears to be some sort of delivery boy and Fitz looks at him in bewilderment as he processes the fact that this stranger seems to know his name. “Umm… Yes…” 

The other man sighs in relief before thrusting his arm out in an attempt to hand something off to Fitz. “Thank god. I’ve been waiting here for like, twenty minutes. Here. It’s from some dude name Simon or something. Left a note asking me to tell you, ‘ _Thanks for the cab. A deal’s a deal._ ’” 

Fitz looks down at the travel mug being held out to him and feels something twist uncomfortably in his gut as he spots the string with the small Earl Grey logo peeking out from under the lid. _A deal’s a deal._ He blinks rapidly and the sickening feeling in his gut grows as he realizes what Jemma had done. Fitz makes no move to take the Styrofoam cup from the man in front of him and just stares at it in confusion. 

The delivery boy grows impatient and rolls his eyes at Fitz as he thrusts it further towards him. “It’s already been paid for man. If you don’t take it, I’m just gonna chuck it.” 

Fitz slowly moves his gaze from the cup to the other man’s face and blinks again as his mind begins to whir. He pauses for another few moments and then sees the crosswalk switch to WALK. He begins to move away from the other man and mumbles, “Yeah… Yeah do that. I don’t want it,” as he does. 

-O- 

After arriving so late the day before, Fitz and Hunter agreed that the best thing to do would be to just officially change his schedule. Hunter seems to be well aware of why Fitz is so adamant to come and leave at a certain time and Fitz catches the other man throwing sympathetic looks in his direction throughout the day. When Fitz spots a chestnut-haired woman walking out of SciTech around 1, he quickly shifts the sign he’s holding so that it’s blocking his face. 

He keeps it there for a few long moments before jumping in surprise as Hunter claps him on the shoulder. “It’s not her mate.” 

Fitz slowly peeks over the sign and feels the tension leave his body as he sees that Hunter is being truthful. The woman is a complete stranger and Fitz finds himself both relieved and disappointed by that fact. He’s thankful that it’s not Jemma, he’s certainly not ready to face her, but a small part of him wishes that it _had_ been her walking out of the SciTech doors in his direction. He’d grown so accustomed to seeing her everyday and now he’s on his third day of not seeing her at all. 

Hunter throws an arm around him in commiseration and glances down at him in sympathy. “Sorry it didn’t work out Fitz.” 

Fitz sighs at the words and looks glumly up at the building in front of him as he nods. He quickly ducks his head back down and scuffs his foot against the sidewalk to avoid Hunter’s gaze. The other man seems to take the hint, giving him one final squeeze on the shoulder before walking off and shouting in his megaphone about the horrors of SciTech. 

-O- 

Fitz is walking towards the SHIELD tent after lunch on Wednesday to begin his afternoon shift when he spots three people standing by the fountain. His eyes widen in alarm and his feet become cemented to the ground as he takes them in. The two women are chatting amicably while the young girl is kneeling on the ground and stroking the fur of an adorable little black lab. 

Fitz feels his heart begin to hammer in his chest at the sight as his throat begins to constrict and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the need to be _anywhere else_. He quickly turns around in an attempt to make a hasty escape and adjusts his route to the SHIELD tent so that he won’t have to pass the fountain. 

“Fitz!” 

He winces at the sound of his name because it means that, despite his best efforts, he’s been spotted. Fitz slowly turns around and sees Maggie waving enthusiastically at him from where she’s standing with her mother and Jemma. He raises his hand in response, keeping his eyes focused on the small girl and resolutely avoiding the gaze of the woman she’s with. 

Maggie points excitedly down at the small puppy with the sparkly purple collar and Fitz lets a small smile cross his face as he gives her a thumbs up. His eyes flicker up _briefly_ and he finds himself locked in a stare with Jemma. Fitz’s miniscule smile disappears completely at the expression on her face and he shoves his hands in his pockets, giving Maggie a nod goodbye, before turning sharply on his heels and walking in the opposite direction. 

-O- 

On Thursday Fitz manages to go the entire day without seeing or _almost_ seeing Jemma. Mack gives him an approving look as he chats up passing pedestrians and he ends the day having distributed more leaflets than he has in the past few weeks combined. He feels somewhat invigorated at this and doesn’t let himself consider that his motivation for being so active mostly stems from his desire to distract himself from Jemma. 

Mack had been wrong before when he’d said that the breakup, or whatever word would be more applicable to his and Jemma’s situation, would be a distraction from the protest. In actuality, the _protest_ is the distraction and Fitz throws himself into it with vigor. Each time his mind begins to wander towards thoughts of Jemma, Fitz all but launches himself at passersby and begins to eagerly launch into a detailed discussion of the SciTech practices. 

By the time he arrives at the apartment, the excitement and energy is gone and Fitz is once again left with a hollow feeling in his chest. Skye had come home the night before and had dutifully ignored him, meaning that when he returns home now, he’s met with a cold glare and another slamming door. 

Fitz plops himself down at the kitchen table and eats alone in silence, contemplating how he’s managed to lead himself into such a lonely existence. His eyes glance towards his phone and he traitorously thinks that _he doesn’t have to be lonely._ His mind has been whirring in overdrive for the past few days and he’s been driving himself crazy wondering what might have been on that voicemail. It would take nothing, just a few clicks of his thumb, to call Jemma and Fitz stares at his phone sadly as the SHIELD part of his brain convinces him not to.

-O- 

Friday has Fitz and Skye sharing an incredibly awkward breakfast. She’s already sitting at the table by the time he walks into the kitchen and, instead of grabbing his cereal to go, he tentatively sits down across from her. They don’t speak at all as each finishes their respective meals but Skye doesn’t immediately get up and leave or start yelling, which Fitz counts as a win. 

When she finally does get up to leave, Skye pauses briefly as she passes him and Fitz holds his breath in the hopes that she might finally be willing to talk to him. Not speaking with Jemma this week was bad enough but having radio silence from Skye as well is slowly making Fitz go crazy. Each successful day with SHIELD has contrasted with the complete failure of his personal life and, though he’s well aware that he’s the sole reason for the silence, Fitz can’t help but feel sorry for himself. 

He sighs in disappointment when Skye continues walking, leaving him alone in the kitchen with nothing but a bowl of soggy cereal. Fitz takes the bowl to the sink and leaves it there before grabbing a pen and jotting _I’m done being a dick_ on a piece of paper that he gingerly tapes to the fridge. 

Fitz looks at it contemplatively for a few moments before turning around and leaving for his bedroom. He snatches a pair of jeans from the pile of clothes in the corner and stops when he hears something clatter to the ground. He blinks quickly at the small piece of plastic and crouches down to pick it up off the floor. He stares at it for a moment, remembering whom it belongs to and what had happened the last time he’d gone to return it, and hastily shoves it back in his pocket. 

_Out of sight, out of mind._  

Fitz dresses quickly and makes his way over to SciTech, taking his new route and actively avoiding the crosswalk that he and Jemma so often met at. He keeps his eyes on the pavement as he walks, not paying attention to his surroundings and instead focusing on the steady rhythm of his feet against the sidewalk. He looks up when he hears the familiar sound of Hunter’s voice carrying out over the megaphone but stops short when he sees Jemma walking with Sitwell and Garrett past the SHIELD tent. She’s gesticulating wildly with her hands and talking animatedly with a wide smile as the men listen intently. 

Fitz watches as Hunter lowers the microphone and shouts something at the trio, who quickly stop moving at the sound of his voice. Garrett turns around with an almost sinister grin and moves towards the protestors, clapping Hunter on the back and saying something that leaves Fitz’s friend glowering. Garrett steps back and gives Hunter a mocking salute before rejoining Sitwell and Jemma where they’re still waiting a few feet away. He says something as he moves closer that causes Sitwell to throw his head back in laughter and Jemma to glance at the SHIELD tent with a perturbed expression. 

Fitz watches as Jemma makes eye contact with Hunter and twitches her hand at her side in greeting. Hunter nods his head at her, face still hard but slightly less vicious than when he’d been speaking with Garrett, and Fitz watches as Jemma sighs before turning to catch up with the other men. He sees Sitwell gesture for Jemma to continue speaking and notices that she does so with far less gusto than a few minutes prior. Fitz feels a flare of anger shoot through him as the men nod appreciatively at whatever it is Jemma’s saying and when they make their way into the building he storms over to the SHIELD tent and grabs a sign with vigor. 

He shoots Hunter a questioning look but the other man just shakes his head and mouths, “Later,” through the crowd of protestors. Fitz nods at this and rolls his shoulders as he stares up at SciTech in fury. He knows Garrett well enough to know that whatever he’d whispered to Lance wasn’t good. Fitz feels his anger begin to swell and is overwhelmed with the need to punch the smarmy man in the face. He’s well aware that this isn’t an option so he resigns himself to spending the day audibly protesting and silently spewing as his mind ruminates over potential ways of upping the ante in the war against SciTech. 

At the end of the day Fitz makes his way over to Hunter and silently helps the other man pack up. They make their way over to the SHIELD office where Hunter unceremoniously drops the box of pamphlets and signs on the floor before motioning for Fitz to follow him into Mack’s back office. 

“What’d he say?” The words are out of Fitz’s mouth before he and Hunter even take a seat and Mack quirks his eyebrow at them in interest. 

“Apparently SciTech is looking to… expand the GH325 project.” Hunter’s words are vague but the implication behind them is enough for Fitz to know that they mean something bad. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Fitz stares at Hunter in bafflement and leans across his own chair to stare the other man down. 

Hunter leans back and holds his hands up defensively as his eyes flit between Fitz and Mack. “How the bloody hell should I know?!” 

“What _exactly_ did Garrett say Hunter?” Mack leans against his desk and peers inquisitively at the other man, waiting for an answer to his question. 

Hunter sighs and rubs his palms over his face before leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands. 

“Said that the girl was just getting started. Apparently the grant money was just _half_ of what’s being put into the GH325 project. Pierce kicked in another two million of his own cash and the board approved an additional three from SciTech’s assets to be moved to the BioChem division.” 

Hunter turns to look at Fitz with a face that is both impressed and _distressed._ “Apparently your girl is now working with eleven million in private and public funds. Whatever she’s doing must be impressive if so many people are willing to throw money her way.” 

Fitz falls back into his chair in astonishment as he processes Hunter’s words. _Eleven million._ The thought sends shivers down Fitz’s spine because he knows that it means Jemma’s making headway with the drug. She’s a literal genius and, if anyone can figure out how to manipulate the GH325, it’s Jemma. Fitz slams his hand down on his desk at the thought and Hunter jumps beside him. 

Mack just leans back in his chair and looks at him speculatively before sighing in exhaustion. “It looks like we’ll need to change tactics then. We need to bring in more people, set up more stations, increase our hours…” 

“More stations? Extra hours?” Fitz jumps from his seat and stares at Mack incredulously. “We need to do _more_ than that! We’ve accomplished _nothing_ Mack. We’ve been here for almost two months and the only thing that’s happened is an _increase_ in funding for the damn project!” 

Fitz can feel his face grow redder with each word and notes that his breathing has become increasingly erratic throughout the duration of his little speech. Hunter is looking at him in shock through his fingers but Mack’s face remains completely neutral. After Fitz’s breathing slows, and his blood no longer seems to be thrumming at the surface of his skin, Mack leans forward again and fixes him with a stare. 

“Listen Fitz, I realize you’re frustrated with the pace we’re moving at, you’re not the only one, but the best thing to do is to just keep at it. You know SHIELD prides itself in doing things by the book; all of our accomplishments are the result of legal and _constant_ means of protest. We’re not going to take extremist action against SciTech just like we didn’t with any of our past protests.” 

“But…” Fitz stares imploringly at the other man but is cut off immediately. 

“ _Enough_ Fitz. We’ll call a mandatory meeting for Monday and spend the morning strategizing. Until then… there’s nothing we can do. Go home, get some rest, and meet back here Monday morning with some fresh ideas.” Mack points to the door and Fitz clenches his jaw at the other man’s lack of action. His fists shut at his side but Hunter’s warning cough and Mack’s raising eyebrow stop him from doing anything stupid. Instead he nods his head woodenly, turns around, and storms out of the office in irritation. 

The walk from SHIELD to his apartment takes less time than usual, likely because Fitz’s anger and frustration seem to be fueling his body to move more quickly, and by the time he unlocks the door he’s roughly ten times more upset than he was upon exiting the office. His anger dampens slightly when he opens the fridge to see a Tupperware of pasta with a note taped to the top that reads: _You better be._

Fitz smiles slightly at the sight of Skye’s sloppy handwriting and grabs the food and a fork before heading in the direction of his bedroom. He pauses to glance at the bottom of Skye’s door but when he doesn’t see any light shining through, he continues into his own room and sits down heavily in the chair at his desk. 

He shovels the food into his mouth as his mind tries to do what Mack suggested and come up with new ideas. Every second he spends thinking about SciTech makes Fitz angrier and angrier, filling him with a rage that he hadn’t felt since leaving the company so many years ago. He spends a few hours hunched over his desk, furiously jotting down possible tactics, before angrily tossing the notebook at his bed. 

Fitz sighs in frustration as he rubs his hands across his face. He crosses his legs and pauses when he feels something hard press into him at the extra constraint of the pulled denim. He blinks in confusion as he reaches into his pocket to pull out the offending object. 

When Fitz opens his hand his eyes widen at the sight of the small piece of plastic lying in his palm. His gaze narrows just as quickly as he grabs the fob in his fingers and holds it up to his eyes. He can hear the devil whispering in his ear and decides to completely ignore the sound of the angel that is begging in the other. 

Fitz slowly reaches for his phone and sends a text to Mack, Hunter, and Darcy with a suggestion that they screw SHIELD protocol and try hitting SciTech from a different angle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Do you see where this is headed?  
> *whispers* If I tell you that Saturday's chapter is titled, 'Break In To Break Out,' THEN will you see where it's headed?  
> *whispers* Do you understand what I meant by, 'Fitz will do something even worse to Jemma'?
> 
> O_O
> 
> Many a sh!t's about to go down.  
> *whispers* (I'm sorry)


	19. Break In to Break Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz decides to be a bit more proactive in the fight against SciTech... and uses Jemma's work key to do it.

Fitz never does get a response from Mack or any of the others, all likely sleeping at this hour, but doesn’t let it deter him from his sudden desire for immediate action. He’s tired of expending his energy time and time again on projects and protests that never seem to accomplish the goals that fueled them in the first place. Fitz has spent the past four years of his life doing everything he can to better both the world and himself and look what he’s gotten from it: absolutely nothing. 

He’s gone by the book, he’s followed all of SHIELD’s protocols, and yet, SciTech is still the same monster that seems to loom over him no matter where he is. It’s the inescapable villain, stopping him at every turn and preventing him from achieving even one iota of good. It’s the equivalent of the hydra monsters discussed in old mythology. He’s attacked it from every angle, cut off head after metaphorical head, and it still remains standing, more powerful than ever. 

There’s a newfound desperation to help the animals at SciTech and Fitz realizes that it stems from the fact that the company has systematically rid him of everything that he cares about. During his time there, he was essentially one of the little white lab rats, completely unaware of the shit he’d be forced to endure. Now he’s one of the tested subjects, slowly being eaten away at until soon there will be nothing left. SciTech has become his tumor, sucking the life from him and consuming every part of him from the inside out. 

Well, he’s finally had enough. Standing outside of a building and condemning certain lab practices is all fine and good but now it’s time for him to take action. 

And as he looks down at the little plastic key fob in his hand, Fitz realizes that he finally has the means to. 

-O-

It’s nearly two AM when Fitz finally makes his way into SciTech. He’d been worried that the security systems may have changed since he’d left the company and is relieved when he sees that it’s still exactly the same. 

The back door to the building has always been the weakest point in terms of security so all he has to do is pull out Jemma’s small key fob, hold it in front of the square panel by the door, and watch as it flashes green. He grabs the handle of the door and tugs it with a grin as he’s met with no resistance. The layout of the building is exactly the same as he remembers and he quickly makes his way up the fire stairs to begin his ascent to the sixth floor laboratory where he knows the biochem research is conducted. 

He himself had been placed in the basement, shut away in the expansive lab where he could test and build his devices without fear of being reprimanded by colleagues for excessive noise. 

When he makes it up to the 6th floor it only takes him a few minutes to find the enormous laboratory. He walks towards it slowly, cautiously turning his head left and right to make sure that he’s alone, and pauses when he reaches the lab doors. There’s another access panel next to it and Fitz crosses his fingers as he raises the fob towards it. He cheers silently when he hears the telltale click of the door unlocking and grins when his hand easily pushes the door forward. 

Fitz is met with the sight of an enormous lab that seems to have every piece of technology and equipment that a scientist could dream of. He thought he’d been spoiled with resources when he’d been here but, looking around, Fitz can tell that SciTech values Jemma far more than they ever had him. He slowly makes his way through the room, staring in awe at the technology and instruments that Jemma has at her disposal. 

He yelps when he bumps into a lab stool, sending it to the floor with a loud crash, and immediately slaps his hands over his mouth to prevent any other noise from escaping. He stills, standing quietly in the room, and tries to hear any signs of movement over the sound of his thumping heart and erratic breathing. He waits and waits and waits until he realizes that nobody is coming for him, and then proceeds to tentatively put the stool upright. Once it’s in place, Fitz quickly makes his way to the back rooms of the lab where he knows are used for storage. 

He opens one door and is met with the sight of rows and rows of chemicals. Fitz leaves the room immediately before moving to the next. This one is full of the larger lab equipment, centrifuges and refrigerators with growing cell cultures, and he shuts the door behind him at the sight. He grins as his hand reaches to hold the fob next to the door because he _knows_ this is the one with the animals. 

Fitz yanks it open and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness before his jaw drops open in surprise. There are dozens of what seem to be recently cleaned cages but there’s not a single animal in sight. No chimps, no rats, and no mice. Fitz’s eyes wander across the room as he processes the fact that he’d broken into SciTech to break _out_ animals that apparently aren’t even here. He steps further into the room and lets his hand graze each of the cages to confirm that this isn’t a dream and the lab really is devoid of all animals. 

He’s not really sure what to do with the information. The exhilaration and adrenaline he’d felt breaking in seems to dissipate immediately and he’s just left with an overwhelming sense of confusion. His mouth opens and closes a few times before Fitz turns around and walks out of the smaller room and back into the larger lab. He just stands there for a few minutes as the crushing disappointment consumes him. This is just another example of him attempting to do something and failing spectacularly. He’d come on his and SHIELD’s behalf to free the animals and stick it to SciTech, but now he’s standing in the middle of a lab with _no_ animals and no way of incapacitating the company. 

He glances around in dismay until his eyes land on one of the computers at the lab benches and he straightens up as a new idea begins to form. 

_The GH325 research._  

He knows SciTech’s policies require that all findings be electronically entered into the company server, meaning that all he needs to do is use one of these computers to delete the files. He hastily makes his way over to the closest desktop and sits at the stool as he clicks on the mouse and begins his second attempt at destroying SciTech. 

Fitz silently thanks Skye for teaching him the basics of computer hacking because it takes less than a minute for him to break into SciTech’s system. He quickly scans the data on the company’s server before spotting a folder labeled GH325. He double clicks on it and groans under his breath when a red RESTRICTED sign flashes across the computer. He clicks on it again and the same sign pops up and Fitz realizes that there’s no way that he’ll be able to get in and delete the research now. The few tricks Skye had taught him weren’t enough to do anything other than login and he feels a surge of disappointment at the realization that he’s likely going to be leaving SciTech with just as much research as they’d had when he’d broken in. 

He pauses for a few minutes before remembering from his own time here that the heads of each department had access to all of the files within the department’s designated server. He grins at this because _Jemma_ is a department head and, while he lacks the ability to crack whatever code is required to access the files as a general user, he _might_ have the ability and general fund of knowledge, to at least crack Jemma’s personal password. 

He makes his way out of the lab in search of Jemma’s office, remembering that it has a window facing the street, and finally finds it after a few wrong turns. He holds the fob up to the small panel, sighing in relief when the lock clicks, and he pushes the door open. 

Fitz takes a moment to just study the office. It’s far less homey than he would have expected from someone like Jemma. He thinks back to the lab he’d just exited, full of papers and personal touches, and realizes that Jemma likely felt far more comfortable there than she does in this room. There are a few small things scattered around the office that scream Jemma but for the most part it’s a fairly generic set-up. For some reason he’s inexplicably happy about this. He _likes_ the fact that there’s a certain tangible detachment between Jemma and SciTech and he’s glad that her personality is more prevalent in the lab than in her fancy office. 

He shakes his head in irritation at his own inability to go five minutes without being distracted by Simmons and moves forward to her desk. He leans over the table, _not_ letting his eyes linger on the small Tardis model sitting beside the computer monitor, and clicks on the mouse. He holds his breath at the noise that the computer makes as it churns to life and warily glances around to ensure that he’s still alone in the office. 

While the computer wakes up, Fitz glances out the full wall of windows and notes that Jemma really _could_ see everything going on down below. His eyes roam over where the SHIELD group gathers during the day and he thinks back to the empty animal cages that he’d found earlier. He’d been confused at first, thinking the rodents had simply been moved elsewhere, but looking down at the street he suddenly wonders if Jemma’s view, and her interactions with him, may have played a role in the animals’ disappearance. He thinks back to when they’d gotten into that screaming match outside of TeaTime and he straightens as he remembers a throwaway comment that she’d made. 

_Though, suddenly I feel as though Sitwell’s point regarding the need to continue animal testing seems far more sound than **my suggestion of possibly making the transition to cell culture and tissue engineering.**_  

At the time he’d thought that she’d just said it to rile him up but perhaps… perhaps she’d been serious. The thought causes Fitz to break out in a cold sweat because the animals are gone, he’d seen cell cultures in the laboratory as he’d snooped around, and Jemma had exhibited a fair bit of emotion at discovering that his activism wasn’t focused on the _animal_ aspect of the SciTech protest. 

Had… had she… _Had_ shechanged the testing? Had she managed to convince SciTech to actually shift methods and cease animal testing? And more importantly, had she done it for _him?_  

The ding of the computer snaps him out of his panicked musings and he glances towards the device before making his way over to it. It’s password protected, naturally, and Fitz finds himself lose all of his previous confidence. He tries a few standard passwords but knows before he types them in that Jemma would never use something so obvious. 

Fitz lets his mind wander over the past few weeks, noting any specifics about Jemma that may be a reflection of her password but comes up empty. He tries a few more random guesses and gets denied each and every time. Finally a box pops up asking if he would like to answer the password hint question and he gratefully clicks _yes._ Another box pops up with a few black words and a small bar to type the password. 

**PASSWORD HINT: THE BEST DOCTOR, NUM + INSECT**  

He stares in puzzlement for a full minute as he tries to contemplate the clue. His eyes flicker back towards the small blue Tardis that sits on the desk and he laughs in realization. He’s reminded of Jemma’s earlier argument with Skye in the bar and smiles as his mind puts two and two together. 

Fitz carefully types **_10ANT_** into the small bar and squeezes his eyes shut as he hits enter. When he opens them again he lets out a huff of nervous laughter as he’s met with the sight of Jemma’s desktop. 

_He’s in. He’d actually done it._

Fitz sits down at her desk chair and quickly scans the various folders that are visible against the floral background. He clicks on a few of them and finds himself stunned by the research that Jemma had conducted. There are pages and pages of lab findings and analysis that is truly astounding. Now that he’s seeing it, his determination to destroy it falters. This information, though certainly in the wrong hands at SciTech, was _extraordinary_ and Fitz is suddenly overcome with doubt. 

The research alone would be enough to make him pause but the fact that it’s _Jemma’s_ leaves a sick feeling in his stomach. He clicks on folder after folder, becoming more and more awestruck with each new file, and finally leans his elbows against the desk to cradle his head in his hands. 

_He can’t do this._

This is _so. Much. Data._

So much time and effort was put into this. Fitz _knows_ that these files are a reflection of sleepless nights and skipped lunches, and there’s no way that he can go through with deleting them. He pushes the chair away from the desk to stand up when he sees the personal letters of congratulations sitting in the corner. His eyes roam over them, all three saying a variation of the same thing and signed by Garrett, Sitwell, and Pierce respectively. 

The sight of the names causes an anger to swell within Fitz and he doesn’t even think when his hand gravitates back to the mouse and begins dragging every folder on the SciTech server into the waste bin icon. Every scrap of research on the GH325 is deleted with the Fitz’s repeated click of the enter button. 

_Are you sure you wish to delete this file?_

**ENTER**  

_Are you sure you wish to delete this file?_

**ENTER**

_Are you sure you wish to delete this file?_  

**ENTER**

Over and over he hits the same key until every file that even _mentions_ GH325 is removed from the system. He checks and double checks that there isn’t anything left on the server before he clicks on the small Mail icon at the bottom of the screen and proceeds to delete every email that mentions the drug. It doesn’t take all that long to delete them from Jemma’s account, but it takes him a few extra minutes to use Skye’s teachings to delete them from the Internet in general. The iCloud is a real pain in the ass and he needs to make sure that none of this content can be found. Most of the emails regarding the drug were sent to the head honchos, which only serves to fuel Fitz’s anger and spurn him on. 

In the end, it only takes about ten minutes to rid SciTech of the electronic evidence of GH325. It takes a bit longer for Fitz to take apart the computer and remove the hard drive and memory servers, but he does it efficiently and when it’s put back together, nothing looks out of place. He shuts everything down, casts one last cursory glance around the office, and ignores the growing feeling of unease and regret that seems to be swallowing him whole. 

Fitz makes his way back into the laboratory and sits himself on a stool in front of one of the lab’s computers. He uses this device to ensure that all of the data had been removed and deleted, and grins in triumph when not a single result for GH325 pops up in the search bar. He stands from the stool and lets his eyes move around the space to make sure that there’s nothing else he can to stick it to SciTech. He spots the row of Bunsen burners and walks over to them, turning one on and holding the hard drive and small pieces from Jemma’s computer over it until they’re just scraps of charred and melted plastic. 

As he’s melting the pieces, his eyes glance up and land on the large refrigerator across from him, where he sees row after row of small vials labeled GH325. His eyes narrow at the sight and he grabs a pair of latex gloves before removing every vial and dumping the contents down the industrial sink. He makes sure to rinse out both the sink and the vials after they’ve all been emptied to ensure that no trace of the drug exists. 

Just to be sure that there’s nothing usable left, he dumps the vials into the chemical waste bin and his gloves quickly follow. Fitz glances around once more at the pristine lab space and wonders again if there’s anything else he could do. He could smash everything if he really wanted to but it seems like a lot of effort for something that SciTech would likely just collect insurance money for anyways. The deleted research was priceless and no amount of money at SciTech’s disposal will be able to retrieve it. _That_ was a real loss for the company and Fitz is content leaving it at that. 

His head shoots towards the lab doors when he thinks he hears something on the other side and slowly makes his way towards them, peering carefully through the small window as he holds his breath. He waits for a minute or two before confirming that he can neither see nor hear anything on the other side of the door. Fitz slowly opens it as he shoves the key fob back into his pocket and glances cautiously around before stepping through the door and making his way down the hallway. The door closes loudly behind him and he jumps in surprise at the sound, whirling around in surprise and glancing at the inanimate object. 

He walks backwards through the hallway, keeping his eye on the lab he’d just left, and therefore doesn’t see whatever’s behind him that he bumps into. “What the fu…” 

Fitz turns around in surprise at the solid weight he’d walked into and is met with a flashlight beam to the face and handcuffs to his wrists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITZ.
> 
> Man oh man. The repercussions have begun. But, let me tell you, a security guard/police officer are nothing compared to the women in Fitz's life in terms of problems he'll be facing. Oh boy. OH BOY. Tomorrow's chapter is titled, "Behind Bars," so.... Yeah. That one should be fairly obvious I think.
> 
> Thank you X1,000 for still being willing to read/kudos/comment on this thing. I really, genuinely, appreciate it. Again, you all are beyond swell!


	20. Behind Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz finds himself stuck in a police station at an ungodly hour and uses his one phone call to contact the first and last person he wants to break the news to.

After being processed Fitz is led down a narrow hallway towards a well-used payphone that looks as though it’s seen better days. The police officer leading him through the jail comes to a halt when they reach the black phone and Fitz doesn’t hesitate to grab the receiver off the wall and stare contemplatively at the faded numbers in front of him. He pounds in the first number that comes to mind, a number that he’d essentially memorized the moment he saw it, and holds his breath at every beep that echoes in his ear with each press of the button. 

He almost hangs up the second he finishes dialing as he processes which number he’d entered. He has no business calling her, _especially_ considering what he’d done to wind up in jail in the first place, and moves his hand to replace the phone on the wall before realizing that _one phone call_ means exactly that. Fitz is once again faced with warring emotions as he contemplates whether or not hanging up and prolonging the ignorance of the woman on the other line is worth not letting anyone know about his predicament. 

Fitz sighs in resignation as he decides that it’s _not_ worth it, _he_ should be the one to break the news, and he grips the phone tighter in his hand as he presses the handset to his ear. 

The phone rings four times, spanning what feels like hours, before he hears the sleepy English accent on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?” 

It’s the first time he’s heard Jemma’s voice in days and Fitz immediately feels his throat constrict and his heart rate rise. He lets himself pause for a second to imagine what it would be like to hear the same sleep-laced voice under different circumstances. He thinks about waking up on a Sunday morning in his too-small bed with a solid weight on his chest and closes his eyes as the visual slowly works its way into his mind. He knows that he’d briefly experienced such bliss the week before, and could have prolonged it had he not been such a coward, but his mind paints a picture that leaves him longing. 

He can only imagine what sort of adorable expressions Jemma makes before 9AM and is once again overcome with the desire to see each and every one of them. The few moments he’d been fortunate enough to experience before bailing like an idiot were ingrained in his memory, and Fitz lets his mind wander to all of the possibilities he threw away. He envisions banana pancakes and morning papers and so much tea the Boston Harbor would be jealous. He pictures her and him and realizes that what he’s actually picturing is his idea of happiness.

Fitz lets himself get lost in the dream before he glances around and immediately snaps back to reality, taking note of the police officer beside him and the peeling grey paint of the walls. He coughs once to clear his throat and shake off the nerves that seem to engulf him whenever Jemma is involved. 

“Umm… Jem… Simmons?” There’s a hoarseness in his voice that is rivaled only by the hesitancy. The line is silent for a few agonizing seconds before he hears a response. 

“Fitz?” 

In that one word he hears an entire spectrum of emotion. The most obvious is surprise, followed by confusion, and accompanied by slight irritation. There’s another one too, hidden beneath the others, that Fitz deludes himself into thinking is happiness. As though some part of her is excited by the fact that it’s _him_ on the other end of the line, waking her up at an ungodly hour, and keeping her from something as precious as sleep. 

“Yeah it’s umm… It’s me. Listen, I know that it’s late… Or actually, what is it going on four in the morning? So I guess it’s actually early, not late. Really, I suppose it actually depends on your defini…” 

“ _Fitz!”_

He almost lets himself smile at the exasperation in her voice as he pictures the eye-roll and nose scrunch that he’s sure are accompanying it. 

“Right sorry. Umm… I’ve gotten myself into a bit… a bit of a situation. And uh, I was wondering… Well you see I was hoping… I _needyoutocomebailmeoutofjail_.” 

The last bit, the _important_ bit, is said in a rush and he winces at his delivery, closing his eyes in frustration and pinching the bridge of his nose. He lets his forehead fall and come to rest against the payphone as he waits for the silence to break. It happens far quicker, with far more emotion, than he thought it would. 

“You need me to _what_?!” 

He can hear how Jemma almost seems to snap awake at his statement and is instantly sorry for getting her involved any more than he already had. 

“ _Jail?!_ What happened, are you all right? Please tell me you’re all right.” 

Warmth permeates through him despite the chill of the hallway as Fitz registers the sincerity and concern within her tone. Said warmth dissipates immediately as he remembers that he is truly the last person on the planet that should be on the receiving end of such concern. 

Fitz is suddenly overcome with guilt as he thinks about the genuinely _decent_ woman on the other end of the line who’s asking about his wellbeing. He’d bailed on her after they’d slept together, ignored her all week, and yet she’s still worrying about him. He knows she’d react far differently if she knew _why_ he was in jail and he wonders why he’s so saddened by the thought. 

_It’s because you don’t want to upset her._

His traitorous mind has always been too fast for its own good and he can’t stop the thought from expanding. 

_She’s your friend and you know this would crush her. And you don’t want it to crush her because you **have** a crush on her. And you’re lying to yourself right now because you know it’s not a crush, you **know** it’s more than that. She’s more than that and you think you may actually love her._

Fitz takes a shuddering breath at this and wants to slam his fist against the wall but one glance at the very large officer standing two feet away stops him before he can even clench his hand. 

“Fitz?” Jemma’s voice is quiet on the other end and he realizes that he’d never actually responded to her questions.

He takes a shuddering breath at her questioning tone and comes to the conclusion that this, _all of this,_ was a big mistake. He may not be able to turn back time and undo what he’d done at SciTech, but he can definitely make sure that Jemma isn’t the one stuck bailing him out of a mess that is directly related to her. 

“Umm… You know what Jemma? Forget I said anything. M’sorry for waking you up, go back to bed you sound exhausted.” 

He moves to hang up the receiver and hears a faint, “Leopold Fitz don’t you da…” before he slams the phone down in a bid to escape the kindness he knows he doesn’t deserve. 

He shoves his hands in his pockets and focuses his eyes on his shuffling feet, not wanting to look at the surprised expression on the guard’s face. He makes his way back down the hallway and lets himself be led into the communal jail cell. The door shuts behind him with a resounding thud that does nothing to drown out the pounding of his heart. 

It must be a slow night because there are only two other men with him: one, a burly man with tattoos and an excessive amount of leather, the other, a smaller fellow who looks as though he’s about to burst into tears. 

He avoids them both, opting to lie down on the vacant bench along the wall, and throws his arm over his eyes in an attempt to block out the fluorescent lights above. He doubts he’ll be comfortable enough to sleep but figures that shutting his eyes will at least decrease his chances of having to interact with the other men. 

-O- 

As it turns out, he truly _can_ sleep anywhere, because the next thing Fitz knows he’s waking up to a guard tapping his shoulder and motioning for him to raise himself off the bench. 

“C’mon kid. Looks like that one phone call worked. Someone came to bail you out.” The guard extends his arm towards the cell door and Fitz hastily stands to his feet. _Someone came to bail you out._ The words _should_ be comforting but he feels as though he’s actually been told to walk towards his execution. 

_This is it._  

He follows the guard down the cramped corridor and only raises his eyes when he hears a female voice. 

He’s both relieved and slightly disappointed when he sees that it’s Skye waiting for him at the end of the hallway. She seems to be chatting animatedly with the guard who had done his booking an hour earlier, gesticulating wildly and laughing every few seconds. When she spots him ambling towards her, the mirth disappears and she turns to face him with her hands on her hips and a glare on her face. 

“Leopold Fitz. In what world do you think I want to be awake at four-thirty in the morning to bail your sorry Scottish ass out of jail?” 

He watches the guard behind the desk smirk at him, clearly having seen too many versions of this scene play out in his years behind the police desk. The barred door slides open without much fanfare and he ambles his way towards his friend. 

“Skye, _please_ save the lecture for another time. Preferably after I’ve gotten at least a full 24 hours of sleep.” Fitz waits until the guard ducks into a back room to retrieve his belongings before letting his head drop into his hands. He must look as pitiful as he feels because Skye’s hand begins to rub comforting circles on his back within seconds. 

He thinks he might still be in shock because his mind is whirring too fast to fully process the night’s events and how they led him to this particular moment in his life. The one fact that he _does_ manage to grasp onto is that Skye had somehow managed to track him down. 

“How did you know where to find me?” His voice is muffled in his hands but Skye has had years of practice deciphering his mumblings and answers the question without hesitation. 

“I got worried when I didn’t hear from you and texted Mack to see if he had any idea where you might be. He gave a _very_ vague answer about SciTech so I did some digging around the police scanners to find out if anything might have happened.” 

Fitz sighs in relief at her statement, silently thanking the universe for plying him with a friend as suspiciously resourceful as Skye, and moves his hands from his face to look at her with gratitude. 

“Oh Skye you wonderful and intelligent and glorious huma…” 

She slaps her hand over his mouth with a guilty look and cuts him off before he has a chance to finish. 

“I’m sorry. That was a lie. I did none of those things. Jemma told me.” 

Fitz can feel the blood rush from his face as he processes her words and then takes in her slightly stiff body language. The look she gives him tells him everything and he suddenly knows that _she_ knows. 

“And yes she’s here, and yes she’s _pissed_ , and yes you are in deep shit my friend. What the hell were you _thinking_?” 

Skye smacks him on the arm, harder than she normally would, and he can see the battling emotions within her glare. She’s just as pissed as she claims Jemma is and just as worried as Jemma seemed over the phone. He feels a slight lump gather in his throat as he takes stock of his situation and the people around him. He can’t help himself from stepping forward and flinging his arms around his best friend. 

“I really messed up Skye. I don’t think she’ll forgive this one.” He mumbles it into her neck and though it seemed pretty unintelligible to him, he knows she both hears and understands him when he feels her squeeze him back. She seems to be aware of the gravity of his words and his predicament because she responds just as quietly with the same question he’d asked himself repeatedly while sitting in that jail cell. 

“God Fitz. What did you _do_?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What kind of idiot destroys someone's work and then calls said someone to bail them out of jail? Answer: this idiot. Seems that the general consensus from last chapter is, "OH MY GOD FITZ, NO YOU IDIOT! THAT WAS UNFORGIVABLE," so I'm excited to see how your feelings will change/stay the same as we progress. 
> 
> And so we begin the ramification phase of this doozy. Jemma's back in the flesh next chapter, meaning that you'll get to see the confrontation that some of you seem eager for. Here's a spoiler that's not really a spoiler: she's not exactly happy to see Fitz. Surprise, surprise. 
> 
> Much like Tuesday's episode, in Tuesday's update, "Fitz and Simmons have a talk." Hopefully the conversation on the show goes a bit better than the conversation in: 'The Awkward Drive Home.'  
> O_O
> 
> My profuse thanks for reading and commenting. You're all swell humans!


	21. The Awkward Drive Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz learns pretty quickly that there's nothing quite as uncomfortable as being trapped in a car with two women that are absolutely furious with him.

Once he calms himself enough to politely accept the little plastic SciTech key fob and his cell-phone from the guard behind the desk, Fitz and Skye begin the slow trek towards the exit of the police station. She must know that he’s deliberately walking at a glacial pace because she places her hand firmly on his back, pushing forward whenever she senses he’s about to dawdle even more. 

Fitz watches in his peripheral vision as Skye hurriedly types out a message on her phone and hits send with a sharp jab of her thumb. He feels his abdominal muscles tighten in anticipation, knowing full well that there’s only one person she could possibly be texting at this hour. With her other hand still on his back Skye must be able to feel the tension that is now radiating through him because she shifts her palm to his shoulder and squeezes it unconsciously. 

She looks as though she’s about to say something when her phone lights up with a short buzz and her gaze scans the words across the small screen before she quickly shoves the device into her pocket. “She… Jemma that is… Is waiting with the car a few blocks down. She said she’ll come pick us up out front.” 

Fitz can tell from her vague tone that there had been something else within Jemma’s text that Skye hadn’t mentioned, but doesn’t push the topic because he’s certain it’s not something he wants to hear. He shuffles his feet even more, pathetically hanging his head and managing a soft, “Yeah okay.” 

When they step outside he pulls his thin sweatshirt tighter around his body, tensing in the early morning air and letting out a shaky breath as he attempts to psych himself up for the inevitable confrontation that will come in a few short minutes. 

His eyes scan the street and flit down the road every time he sees the flash of a headlight. He doesn’t realize he’s started pacing until Skye, sitting on the curb at his feet, groans and smacks his leg as he moves past her again. 

“Will you quit it? You’re acting suspiciously paranoid, pacing around in your stupid hoodie, and we’re still in front of a _police_ station, so maybe keep the theatrics to a minimum?” 

“She’s going to kill me Skye! As in _murder.”_

The scary thing is, a part of Fitz fully acknowledges the plausibility of his statement. He’d really messed up this time and he doesn’t think Jemma would be all that unjustified in running him down with her car and throwing his disloyal body into the nearest ditch. 

Evidently Skye seems to agree because she rolls her eyes derisively at his theatrics as she picks at her cuticles. 

“Well then at least we’re in front of a police station. Your killer will be apprehended immediately and your murder will go down in history as the quickest solved crime.” 

Skye’s voice is laced with her standard sarcasm, getting increasingly biting as she continues talking. “Besides, from what I can tell you’d actually deserve it. Hell, I’ll probably volunteer to be a character witness for Jemma during your trial.” 

Fitz sits down beside Skye on the curb, knees apart enough for him to tuck his head between them, and begins playing with the frayed laces of his battered sneakers. He feels tears prickle behind his eyes when he spots the Dopamine molecule that had been carefully drawn in black Sharpie atop the rubber toe of his shoe. 

“I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you Fitz. I don’t fully know what you did and I don’t even _remotely_ know why you did it, but I _do_ know that you made Jemma collateral damage in the process. And that’s fucked up.” 

Skye’s on a roll now and he makes no attempt to stop her, partly because he knows better than to interrupt her, but mostly because he completely agrees with the words she’s saying. At this point he’s not even sure what he’d hoped to accomplish with his actions, what point he was trying to prove, and he finds Skye’s words to be a nice change from his own voice’s berating in his head. 

“Because she was near tears when she called me earlier and didn’t stop talking about how worried she was in the car until she…” 

“Until she what?” Fitz’s head snaps towards Skye because for the first time he has some hint at how much Jemma actually knows about what had happened at SciTech. 

“You _know_ what! Until she got a call from work! Until some asshole security guard started yelling about someone breaking into the research facility!” Skye is standing at this point, yelling at him from above as though scolding a small child. 

He certainly plays the part, keeping his head low and his tears hidden. 

“Fitz, never in my life have I seen someone look the way she did when she was listening to that guy…” Skye’s voice is softer now, as though she is back in the car watching whatever emotions must have played out across Jemma’s face. 

“What umm…” He pauses for a moment to clear his throat. “What all did he tell her?” 

“Honestly? I have no idea. I only heard one end of the conversation and when she hung up she refused to tell me anything else.” Skye plops down next to him again, plucking a clover off of the small patch of grass next to them, before continuing with exasperation. 

“Didn’t speak the rest of the drive, so it was an awkward ten minutes to say the least. You _know_ how I feel about silent road trips.” She shudders at this and throws the shredded clover into the road before sighing and shrugging her shoulders. “Then she parked around the corner, said she’d wait with the car, handed me the bail money…” 

“She what?!” Fitz yelps at an octave he didn’t even know he was capable of reaching and grabs Skye by the shoulders, turning her to face him. “What do you mean she gave you the bail money?” 

Skye is clearly startled by his sudden exclamation and swats his hands off of her as she begins rolling her eyes at his dramatics.

“What, you thought it was _my_ money we used to get you out? Fitz, c’mon. I still eat _Ramen_ for most of my meals. It cost, like, 400 bucks to get your butt out of that cell! In what world would I have access to that kind of money?” 

He feels his entire body give out on him and the next second he’s laying down with his back on the ground and gaze focused on the sky. 

“Whoa Fitz, what the hell?” He ignores Skye as his mind contemplates how someone like Jemma Simmons can be real. How someone can be so unfailingly _kind_ and generous despite having people like _him_ in their lives. 

_She paid the bail._

Fitz wants to let himself break and start sobbing but doesn’t want Skye to witness it. He knows that despite the fact that she’s his best friend and roommate, Skye’s loyalties lay with Jemma on this one. She’ll pat him on the back but he’ll see in her eyes that she thinks he’s deserving of the ache. 

Her next statement only proves his point. 

“Fitz, c’mon sit up. Look I realize that tonight has been… Less than ideal… And I fully intend on hearing your side of the story… But right now I don’t feel like watching you go through this internal crisis that seems to be happening right now.” She tugs at his arm, pulling him upright, and then grabs another blade of grass to destroy. 

“She hates me now.” His voice wobbles as he audibly voices what he fears to be true. “I’ve finally managed to realize I might love her and it took making her hate me to do it.” 

Skye’s hands still and she turns to look at him with an overwhelming amount of sadness. She opens her mouth to speak but Fitz watches her as she registers that, for the first time, she has nothing to say. 

They’re locked in a staring contest when a car pulls up along the curb and stops in front of them. Skye stands immediately, nodding her head at the woman in the driver’s seat, before looking down at him with a frown. “Get up Fitz. Time to rip off the band-aid.” 

He doesn’t _want_ to rip off the band-aid. At this point he’d feel much more comfortable just walking back to his apartment but Skye’s hands are on her hips and her glare is slowly but surely turning icy enough that Fitz knows he really only has one option. 

He slowly makes his way to his feet, quickly shoving his hands in his pockets, and keeps his head low with his eyes trained on the ground. He shuffles forward until he’s next to Skye and reaches for the door handle of the back seat. Skye quickly smacks his hand out of the way and his head snaps up in surprise. 

“Nuh-uh. No way José. I’m not going to make this any easier on you. You’re in the passenger seat.” She points to the front door and doesn’t move until Fitz hesitatingly pulls at the handle. He closes his eyes as he does, expecting to be met with a locked door, and feels his entire body tense when it opens without issue. 

He tugs at the door until it is completely open but can’t seem to convince himself to sit down next to the woman who is resolutely refusing to acknowledge his presence. He must have stood outside of the car longer than expected because Skye, who had somehow clambered into the back seat without him noticing, pipes up. 

“Get in the car Fitz. We’re all tired. It’s time to go home.” 

Fitz slides into the seat and softly shuts the door behind him. He clicks the seatbelt into place and uses his already turned torso as an excuse to flick his eyes towards Jemma. 

Her eyes are firmly on the road, only moving to check the rearview mirror as she pulls onto the main road and begins the drive towards their respective homes. He wants to openly stare at her and take stock of everything about her but he knows that it’s neither the time nor place so he chooses to focus on one thing only: Her red-rimmed eyes. 

It takes about two seconds for him to realize that Jemma’s request to wait in the car was actually a desperate bid for privacy. She’d been crying, alone, over a stupid boy who’d betrayed her trust in the most unimaginable way. 

She’d been crying because of _him._  

Fitz feels sick at the thought and leans his head against the cool window in an attempt to distract from the roiling feeling in his stomach. He doesn’t think throwing up in her car will make Jemma any more willing to hear him out. At this point he doesn’t think _anything_ will make her listen to him. 

The car is thick with tension and the silence does nothing to diminish the discomfort. 

Within five minutes Skye is dozing in the back seat and Fitz is left with a silence that is stifling. He opens his mouth a few times but each time he stops himself from speaking, unsure of how to even _begin_ this conversation.

Fitz presses his body as far away from Jemma as he can, not even bothering to be subtle about it, and is plastered against the passenger door in a state of complete discomfort. He tries to give her as much space as he can, both physical and emotional, not wanting to intrude upon her life any more than he already has. 

Despite his best effort, however, he can’t seem to stop his eyes from glancing in Jemma’s direction every few moments. He only lets each look last a moment or two and takes in everything he can in the short time he allows himself. 

She’s dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a ratty sweatshirt with a faded Cambridge logo emblazoned across the chest. Her whiskey eyes are dark in the early morning light but there’s a fiery glint in them that seems to flash with each passing streetlight. He can’t see her face clearly but he doesn’t have to in order to know how angry she is. Her entire body is tensed and her jaw is clenched in a telltale sign of displeasure. 

He’s seen glimpses of this Jemma before, briefly during the numerous arguments they’d gotten in over the past few weeks, but never has it lasted so long. 

Fitz absolutely _hates_ it. More than anything he hates that he’s the reason for it, that it’s his fault the woman beside him is no longer the smiling Jemma Simmons that he has admittedly grown to love. He stops glancing at her and instead focuses on staring out the window and avoiding the sight of someone he thinks he’s responsible for breaking. 

Skye stirs once they’re about ten minutes away from their apartment and leans up between the front seats, sandwiching herself between them and staring out the windshield in exhaustion. Fitz can feel her eyes on him and wonders if Jemma has a similar sensation. He _knows_ that Skye’s eyes are likely moving between the two of them and he holds his breath when he hears her inhale. 

Fitz isn’t sure he’s ready for Skye to meddle in this situation and he desperately hopes that whatever she’s about to say won’t be too uncomfortable or direct. 

“Jem, would you mind dropping me off at Trip’s apartment? It’s the fancy brownstone a few blocks before ours.” 

He quickly turns his head in Skye’s direction and is met with a mouthful of hair. She’s facing Jemma and Fitz knows it’s her way of avoiding his pleading gaze. 

“The one across from TeaTime?” 

Jemma’s voice is soft but to Fitz her words seem to resonate throughout the car. It’s the first time he’s heard her speak since hanging up on her in the police station and he immediately feels a flood of warmth surge through his veins at the sound. 

He glances over Skye’s shoulder to look at Jemma and for one brief moment, as she turns her head to speak to Skye, their eyes meet. She seems to physically recoil at the eye contact, snapping her head back to the road in front of her and tightening her grip on the wheel. 

The warmth dissipates immediately and is replaced by a suffocating iciness. 

Skye must notice the shift because she infuses an obvious amount of false enthusiasm into her next few words. “That’s the one! Will that be an issue or…” 

“Nope. It’s on the way.” Jemma’s answer is succinct and though she makes an attempt to smile politely at Skye in the mirror, it’s lacking its usual warmth. Fitz turns his head back towards his own window as Skye squeezes Jemma’s shoulder in silent thanks- or understanding _or sympathy_ \- and falls back into her own seat without another word. 

Fitz is lost in his own head until he sees the closed sign leaning against the TeaTime window. The sight has him straightening in his seat and he can feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest. 

The car comes to a stop outside of Trip’s apartment and Fitz can see the light on in the third floor window. At first he assumes that Skye had informed the other man she’d be coming by, but he then glances at the clock and realizes that it’s already after five. Normal people, he realizes, are just starting their day. Going about their morning routines with no knowledge of the issues that other people are dealing with. 

Skye leans forward, wrapping her arms around Jemma from behind, and whispers something into the other woman’s ear that Fitz can’t make out. He _does_ notice that when Skye pulls away Jemma is left with glistening eyes and unshed tears. 

Skye opens her door and squeezes Jemma’s shoulder, throwing out a, “Later Fitz, glad you’re not dead,” as she exits the car. Jemma is still visibly upset and a moment later Skye is rapping on her window to get her attention. Simmons turns her head and releases a tremulous smile as Skye fogs up the glass of the window and draws a grinning face. Skye proceeds to wave fondly and make her way up the steps of Trip’s apartment. 

Both Fitz and Jemma keep their eyes trained on Skye until the door has closed behind her and they are left alone in a suffocating silence. 

Jemma’s sigh echoes within the confines of the vehicle and Fitz is about to open his mouth to tell her he’s fine walking from here when she puts the car in drive and begins the two-minute journey to his place. He thinks about the last time they were in a car together, remembering the much _different_ tension that had been present in the cab, and once again feels as though he’s going to be sick. 

The car pulls to a stop outside his apartment building and Jemma puts it into park while noticeably leaving the engine running. This is a drop-off and, despite his previous anxiousness at being alone with Jemma, Fitz suddenly wishes that this conversation were deemed worthy enough to at least park the car for. 

It’s silent for another long moment before he breathes deeply, finding whatever courage he has, and begins the long overdue conversation. 

“Jemma…” 

“Get out Fitz.” 

She doesn’t even look at him when she says it, instead opting to keep her hands at the ten and two position and her eyes focused on some distant point through the windshield. Her knuckles are white from their grip on the steering wheel and he can _feel_ the anger that is simmering beneath her pale skin. 

“Jemma it wasn’t…” 

He contorts his body in the passenger seat so that he is facing her fully, desperate for any sort of acknowledgement from the woman next to him. 

“Fitz. _Don’t_.” Jemma’s head whips in his direction and he flinches back slightly at the fury in her eyes. 

“But…” 

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say because I’m done. I’m _done_ Fitz. With whatever this is… With whatever it could have been… I’m out. I don’t want anything to do with it and I want even less to do with you.” 

There are unshed tears in her eyes and he knows that despite her outward rage, beneath is an insurmountable amount of hurt and devastation. 

“Jemma _please…_ ” 

Fitz doesn’t even care that his voice breaks, he’s on the verge of tears himself because he knows that this moment is the one that will dictate his future. 

“I don’t know what I expected. You _hate_ what I represent and I don’t even _understand_ what you represent. We’re not friends, you’ve said that too many times to count.” At this point the tears are running silently down her face and her breaths are coming quickly and shakily. 

“I swear it wasn’t person…” He can’t even finish the sentence before Jemma cuts him off. 

“It wasn’t _personal?_ Are you fucking kidding me Fitz? Do you have _any_ idea how I felt that morning? How I felt waking up in an empty bed after we _slept_ together and then having you give me radio silence for a _week_ until you called me from _jail_ because you needed help. It was awful Fitz, absolutely _awful_ , and I didn’t think anyone could hurt me worse than _you_ did then.” 

The tears are no longer silent. She’s crying audibly, clutching at her chest as though she’s worried she’ll physically fall apart, and the look on her face is full of so much hurt that Fitz feels his own heart break with each passing second. 

Jemma must understand his reaction to her because she hastily wipes at her cheeks, unwilling to be vulnerable with him again, before taking a shuddering breath. 

“But I was wrong because here we are. The joke’s on me I guess because this hurt is worse but it’s still you that’s responsible for it.” Her tone is hard and she delivers the words with an impassive calmness that slices through Fitz more than her previous tears. 

There is a void in Jemma’s eyes that scares him because the lack of emotion is exactly that: an uncaring and emotionless stare that leaves Fitz struggling to breathe. 

“I’m _sorry_ Jemma, I don’t even know what I was…” 

“Stop! Just _stop_.” She turns her head away from him and it feels like the equivalent of a door being slammed in his face.“You were right Fitz, we’re not friends. We’re not anything. Not then, not now, not ever. I’m done. Get out.” 

Fitz isn’t exactly sure what an asthma attack truly feels like but he’s certain it’s similar to what he’s currently experiencing. This was it, this was the life-defining moment and he realizes that his life has been defined as one that is now Jemma-less. 

Fitz reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little piece of plastic that had caused so much damage. He stares at it for a moment, trying to understand how something so small could be so destructive, before he catches sight of himself in the mirror and realizes that the only destructive thing in the car is him. 

His own selfishness and deep-seeded insecurities brought him here and he can’t think of anything he’ll regret more than what he’d done to Jemma Simmons. He shakily extends his arm and places his balled fist on the flat plane of the driver’s side dashboard. He sees her flinch at his proximity and it’s that physical recoil that causes his own tears to finally fall. 

“I’m sorry.” It comes out as a broken whisper and he opens his hand, letting the little plastic key clatter onto the car’s surface. He pulls back and turns to exit the car. 

Fitz hears the choked sob that leaves Jemma’s mouth as she spots the fob and he quickly closes the door behind him before she has the chance to hear his. 

He steps away from the car and watches through the window as Jemma reaches for the little key before retracting her hand. She moves to cover her mouth before her head drops into her hands as she begins to cry. She’s no longer holding it in and he watches as her body shakes with the sobs that wrack through her. 

Fitz doesn’t think he has the right to watch her crumble like this so he does what has quickly become his least favorite thing to do and walks away from Jemma Simmons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest assured that this is merely part 1 of the fallout. Fitz deserves way more than just an awkward car ride and he's gonna get it from sure. T'will be a long hard road for the guy and he will most certainly be facing real consequences and more confrontations for his actions.
> 
> The next chapter shall be posted on Thursday and is entitled, "Drown Your Tears in Beers… Nay, the Hard Stuff"
> 
> Three guesses as to how Fitz decides to cope with his idiocy. Which leads me to inform you that there is some drinking-to-the-point-of-blacking-out next chapter so this is a TW if that kind of content is something that makes you uncomfortable to read.
> 
> Many thanks as per usual for reading and letting me know what you think! It makes me very happy :)


	22. Drown Your Tears in Beers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After screwing up so badly with Jemma, and royally pissing off Skye, Fitz unfortunately decides that, at this point, alcohol is his only friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POTENTIAL TW: This chapter deals with some marginally heavy drinking and some vague descriptions of *spoiler* alcohol poisoning/low-grade hospitalization. So if that's not something you wish to read... skip this chapter.

_***POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter deals with some marginally heavy drinking and some vague descriptions of *spoiler* alcohol poisoning/low-grade hospitalization. A character does some drinking/vomiting/passing out in the first half of this chapter, so if you are uncomfortable with such things, I'd advise you to skip to the second half which is separated from the first by this symbol: -O-. The second portion has the aforementioned character in a hospital setting so if THAT is something you wish to avoid reading, it'd be best to skip forward to chapter 23.*** _

 

 

By the time he hears keys jingling outside his apartment around noon Fitz is close to being blackout drunk and is sitting slumped against the couch on the living room floor, surrounded by empty bottles. 

After leaving Jemma in her car he’d walked into his apartment intending to drink _just_ enough beer to leave him buzzed enough to collapse asleep, but when his thoughts were still running rampant through his mind after his third Guinness, he’d decided that beer wasn’t enough and promptly ransacked the liquor cabinet.

 _This_ of course made him realize how truly expansive the liquor selection in the FitzSkye household was and, unable to choose just one, he opted to instead drink his way through as many as he could. 

Which leaves him here, staring up at who he _assumes_ is Skye with bloodshot eyes, wearing a t-shirt that seems to have soaked up just as much alcohol as he has. 

“Oh god, _Fitz._ ” 

He makes a pathetic attempt to turn his head in the direction of the voice but the motion leaves him dizzy and he instead turns away from the blurry figure to throw-up in the garbage can he’d had the forethought to place within reaching distance. 

“Oh, Fitz. No, no, no. C’mon, hey look at me. _Fitz!”_  

The blurry figure kneels in front of him, grasping his chin in soft fingers and tilting his face up until he’s able to focus long enough to confirm that it is in fact Skye who is man-handling him. He lets out a pitiful groan and feels his body begin to keel over before Skye’s hands grip his shoulders to keep him upright. 

“Shit, _Fitz._ How much did you…” Apparently simply looking at the mess around him is enough for Skye to answer her own question. “Shit, shit, _shit.”_

Everything is spinning for him at this point so he shuts his eyes and leans his head against the couch. It’s peaceful, relaxing even, and lasts far too short for Fitz’s taste because about two seconds after closing his eyes he feels a sharp slap against his cheek. Normally the sting would have him jolting up and sputtering indignantly, but currently all he can accomplish is a weak fluttering of his eyelids. Even this is difficult for him and he can barely muster the strength to keep his eyes open long enough to confusedly look around for the source of the pain in his cheek. 

“Listen Fitz I really need you to try to stay awake for me okay? Can you do that? Please, _please_ try to do that for me.” It takes him longer than usual to process her words and, truthfully, he only manages to understand about half of what Skye has said. He is able to register that she sounds scared, maybe a little sad, and that he’s the reason for it. 

This of course reminds him of another woman he’d made sad, which causes him to once again feel sick to his stomach and wretch into the garbage can. 

“Oh _fuck!”_  

He groans again and rests his cheek across the edge of the basin, unable to find the energy to lift his head from its position. He feels miserable in every sense of the word and wishes that he’d taken one more drink so that he’d lost consciousness before the crippling misery began to engulf him completely. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels Skye gently use the edge of her sweater to wipe at his face. 

“Oh Fitz.” 

He feels her hand run through his hair and he lets his eyes flutter shut at the sensation. 

“Fitz, listen I know you’re tired but you need to sit up and do your best to stay awake okay? Hey!” Skye hoists him back into a sitting position and lightly pats his face until he manages to crack his eyes open. 

“Fitz, can you stay awake and stay upright while I go make a call? I’ll be right over there okay? Do something so I know you understand.” 

He doesn’t. Understand that is. He hears something about staying awake, which he’s not sure he’ll be able to manage, but he also hears how desperate Skye is, so he shakily moves his head and moans. 

“Good. Okay I’ll be right back.” 

She places a kiss on the top of his head and, just for a second, he doesn’t feel quite so despondent. She moves to the kitchen and he watches as she punches her phone, cradling it between her ear and shoulder, and begins to flit around, putting the teakettle on the stove and running a towel under the faucet. 

She comes to a sudden halt and quickly grabs her phone as the person on the other end of the line answers. 

“Hey! Listen I’m so, _so,_ sorry to be calling you right now but Trip had to go into work and I didn’t really know who else to call and I just really need your help.” There’s an anxiousness in Skye’s voice and Fitz thinks that she may be on the verge of tears because he’s only ever heard her sound like this once before and he’d ended up spending _that_ night with Skye cradled in his lap sobbing about her ex. 

“No you don’t need to come over it’s fine I think… I just… Honestly I’m panicking right now and you’re technically a doctor so I thought you might be able to help me.” 

Fitz can barely make out Skye’s silhouette as it paces in front of him because the edge of his vision grows fuzzier with each passing second. 

“No, I know you’re not technically a _medical_ doctor but I figured you’d still be able to help with the basics. Say for example, oh I don’t know, how would one know if someone has alcohol poisoning?” 

It’s silent for a few moments and Fitz revels in the brief respite. 

“What, no! Of course _I_ don’t have alcohol poisoning… I’m with a friend.” 

Fitz wonders if _he’s_ the friend Skye is referring to and shudders at the fact that he’s in a place where he’s questioning it at all. How fall had he fallen to actually wonder what his place in Skye’s life is? 

“Umm… 5’8? Maybe a hundred and forty pounds? Hundred-fifty? Jeez I don’t know! I don’t exactly spend my free time weighing Fit…” 

Skye cuts herself off before finishing her sentence and Fitz watches dazedly as her fingers moves to pinch the bridge of her nose. She’s silent for a moment and he assumes it’s because whomever she’d called was busy speaking on the other end. 

“Yeah. Yeah really bad, worse than I’ve ever seen him.” Skye’s voice is a bit softer now and Fitz has to really make a concentrated effort to hear her from where she’s standing on the other side of the apartment. 

“God, I don’t know! Beer, tequila, vodka, whiskey too from the looks of it. I have no idea how full they were to begin with but they’re empty now.” 

Now Skye actually _is_ crying and Fitz wonders how it is that he seems to so effortlessly reduce all of the women in his life to tears. The thought brings a distinct prickling sensation to his own eyes again and Fitz knows that if he wasn’t so dehydrated from his trip down alcohol-lane, his face would likely be trenched in his own salty tears. 

“I don’t _know!_ I was at Trip’s and I walked in five minutes ago! He was just lying there… He’s so pale… I just… I don’t know what to do! He’s thrown up twice since I got back and he can’t keep his eyes open for more than two seconds and… I just… Please I have no idea how to help him, and I know you probably don’t _want_ to help him, especially after last night’s fiasco, but…” 

Fitz isn’t sure how his inebriated self manages to piece it together but suddenly he comprehends that Skye knows exactly _one_ doctor and only _one_ person outside of this apartment that would label last night a fiasco. He begins to panic at the realization and can feel the haze left by the alcohol clear long enough for him to process the fact that Skye has once again turned to Jemma for help. 

He feels the sweat break out across his forehead and the blood thrum through his veins until his heart is thudding against his chest in a painful rhythm. His breathing becomes erratic and it becomes a chore to get oxygen into his lungs. Skye must notice his sudden shift because one minute she’s in the kitchen and the next she’s kneeling in front of him pressing the wet cloth to his face. 

 _“Skye? Are you still with me?”_

He thinks he might be hallucinating now because Jemma’s voice is clear as day and he finds it to be more soothing than the wet compress that Skye is dabbing across his brow.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. Fitz just…” 

He blinks in confusion as Skye responds and then his clouded eyes focus on the mobile device that is on the ground next to his friend. He can’t make out the words on the screen but he does see Jemma’s face smiling up at him from her contact picture. 

The sight sends a sharp pain through his core and he is miraculously able to grab the bin fast enough to avoid puking on himself or Skye. 

“Shit, _Fitz!_ Hey, c’mon Fitz. You’re okay. It’s okay. Look at me okay? Keep looking at me, don’t focus on anything except my face and my voice.” Skye’s _definitely_ crying now that he’s got a proper look at her and every word she says is followed by a watery sniffle. 

 _“Skye? Don’t panic alright?”_

The voice on the phone is less soothing now because it’s laced with an anxiety that seems to transfer right into him. Fitz thinks he feels his throat closing up and he moans at the utter helplessness that seems to consume him.

 _“Skye, listen to me! You need to make sure he stays conscious in an upright position. Do **not** let him fall asleep or lie down. If he keeps throwing up, falling asleep could lead to asphyxiation.”_

“I’m _trying_ Simmons. God _dammit_ Fitz. Hey! Keep your eyes on me Leopold.” 

Fitz doesn’t want to disappoint either of them again so he does everything he can to follow the command, dazedly blinking at his friend and keeping his eyes locked on hers. 

“Okay good. Should I get him a glass of water or something?” 

Skye’s eyes are on his but he knows that the question isn’t directed at him. Still, water sounds kind of nice so he tries to nod his head in the hopes that she’ll acknowledge him.

 _“No, no, no! Don’t do that! Food or drink won’t help, it could just lead to choking. Skye, listen to me, this is **really** important okay? If at anypoint he loses consciousness you absolutely must call 911. Same goes if you notice him getting clammy or breathing erratically.”_

“But that’s already happening! He _is_ clammy and he _is_ breathing erratically!” 

Fitz can barely make out the words but isn’t sure if it’s because of Skye’s tears or the alcohol-induced fog that is clouding his mind. He has a feeling it’s likely a combination of the two. 

The phone is silent for a moment and he wonders if Jemma’s finally realized that he really isn’t worth her time and decided to hang up. 

 _“Skye…”_

Of course she didn’t hang up. Jemma Simmons is inherently good and would never ignore an opportunity to help someone. 

 _“Skye you need to call 911. If he’s really that bad then he needs medical help.”_

Fitz doesn’t like the sound of that but it doesn’t really matter because everything is fuzzy and he can no longer keep up with their conversation. He lets his head fall against his shoulders and his eyes flutter closed, ignoring the two voices that are shouting his name. 

\- O - 

For the second time in twenty-four hours Fitz wakes up in an unfamiliar room with a fluorescent light that makes his head ache. 

When he swallows it feels as though sandpaper is running along the length of his throat and tears prickle his vision at the sensation. He shifts his head a bit and smiles wearily when he spots Skye sitting in the corner with her iPad in one hand and a trashy magazine in the other. Behind her is a rather obnoxious, “Get Well Soon,” balloon that is littered with brightly colored cartoon monkeys and is nearly as big as Skye herself. 

“If that thing cost more than ten dollars, it was a waste of money.” 

Fitz blinks at the raspiness of his own voice and winces as the sharp pain that shoots through his esophagus. 

Skye freezes for a moment at the sound of his voice, eyes flicking towards the hospital bed in delight before narrowing and focusing once more on the magazine. 

“Good thing I stole it then.” 

She huffs it out with her usual sarcasm but Fitz can hear the way her voice cracks at the end. She’d been worrying. 

He knows better than to draw attention to her less than subtle attempt at hiding her emotions so he decides that the best course of action is to ignore the sniffle and aim for humor. “Well then… I suppose when I bail you out of jail we’ll be even.” 

This certainly works at ridding Skye of her tears because her gaze shifts back towards him and he watches as a fierce anger seems to overtake her. She slams the magazine on the table beside her and stands up indignantly, slowly making her way towards him as she speaks. 

“No, actually we won’t be. You’d have to bail me out of jail and then walk in on me, alone in our apartment, sitting drunk in a pile of alcohol. _Then_ you’d have to clean up my vomit, call an ambulance to take me to the hospital, and be sick with worryas I get a tube shoved down my throat and a giant ass needle stuck in my hand. Then we’d be _close_ to even because there’d still be the matter of calling all of my friends and family and knowing who to lie to about why I’m not answering texts or calls, and who I’d want to know the truth.” 

“Best friends, truth. Friends and acquaintances, lie. Family… well I’m your family so no need to worry about that, I’d already be in the know.” Fitz tacks on a small smile at the end to try to emphasize the sincerity behind his words. 

Skye is quiet for a moment as she stares at him and he worries that, once again, his attempt at lightening the mood has fallen flat. He _knows_ it’s fallen flat when a tear escapes her eye and she hastily swipes at it before it falls off her face. She takes another breath and barrels forward, the brief pause and lone tear serving as the only indication that she’d heard him. 

“ _Then_ you’d have to deal with the mean nurses who are trying to make you leave me while _simultaneously_ pulling out whatever charm you have to squeeze as much information from the doctors as possible. Then, you’d have to sit by my bedside and tell me jokes while I’m asleep and read to me from my favorite magazines and _then, only then,_ would we be even. _Barely._ ” 

She plops down on the chair directly by his bedside, crossing her arms and turning her head to stare at the door instead of him. 

She’s close enough for him to limply grasp her shoulder and squeeze in affection. “Let’s just agree that in regards to this friendship… You’re far superior to me and I’m forever in your debt. I would’ve been even before today.” 

“Damn right.” 

Skye sniffles again and grasps his hand in her own but still avoids his gaze. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry.” 

“Yeah whatever.” 

“Skye…” 

In a second she’s bent over his hospital bed and gripping him in a tight hug with her cheek pressed against his chest. “Don’t _ever_ pull something like that again Fitz. Not ever. I know you were just kidding around before but you _are_ my family and I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.” 

“Oh, _Skye_. I wasn’t kidding.” 

Fitz moves his hand to the back of her head and gently strokes her hair in what he _hopes_ is a comforting manner. This had never really been his foray, making it yet _another_ reason why Jemma’s friendship had likely been so appealing to the other girl. He does his best though, continuing to pet Skye’s head until her tears subside and she’s pushing him over on the bed to make herself more comfortable. He looks down at her and pats her head affectionately, trying to infuse as much sincerity into his words as possible, _needing_ her to understand. 

“I wasn’t kidding.” 

She smiles at him and he can feel her head nodding where it’s resting on his chest. He closes his eyes and basks in this brief moment of tranquility before he cracks an eye open and taps Skye’s shoulder to get her attention. 

“Since I’m already so heavily in your debt… Would you mind if I tacked another thing onto my list of things to repay you for?” 

She glares up at him, narrowing her eyes as if challenging him to continue with his sentence. 

“I think my throat may actually start bleeding from the chafing if I don’t get some water soon…” 

Skye rolls her eyes and groans at him before hoisting herself off the bed and moving towards the cart in the corner of the room and pouring a glass of water from the pitcher. 

Fitz grins at her addition of the magenta straw and scoots over on the bed when she returns to give her more room. He gratefully takes the glass from her and lets his eyes fall closed as the cool liquid falls down his throat. He takes a few tentative sips, realizing that he’s still not in the best shape, and does his best to avoid looking at the IV that is sticking out of his hand. 

“Hey Fitz?” Skye’s voice is soft, as though she is wary of breaking the silence, but there is an underlying determination that quickly gets his attention. 

“Hmm?” 

She’s avoiding his gaze and tapping her fingers rhythmically against his palm. 

“I think it’s time you tell me everything. About what’s been going on with SHIELD, about Jemma, and about you.” 

He tenses a bit at her words and sucks in a shaky breath. He doesn’t really want to get into it right now but he knows that, of the two people he owes an explanation to, Skye is likely the best to start with. 

She _is_ his family, differing DNA be damned, and he wants to tell her everything. 

So he does. 

He starts at the beginning and details everything that’s happened between that first day he ran into Jemma and now. Skye listens intently, asking questions when he doesn’t provide enough information but mostly just silently lending an ear as she processes his words. 

They take a quick break when his doctor comes in to discharge him and sternly lecture him about the dangers of alcohol, but resume immediately as they hop on the bus heading towards their apartment. 

He speaks as they clean up the empty bottles that litter their living room floor, mumbles through mouthfuls of the Chinese they’d ordered for dinner, and jabbers on as they curl up on the couch with their respective tubs of Ben & Jerry’s. 

He talks, and talks, and _talks_ and by the end of the evening he feels as though a portion of the weight he’s been carrying on his shoulders has lifted. Upon the completion of his tale, Skye promptly grabs a notebook and begins jotting down ideas for their, “Get Simmons to Forgive Fitz,” game plan. 

They spend _hours_ writing down specifics: various apologies, numerous conversation starters, but mostly just a slew of transportation means that would help him flee the country should none of their other plans work. Eventually Skye stands up, yawning in exhaustion, and heads to her room. Before she crosses the doorway she turns back to look at him, murmuring a sleepy, “We can do it Fitz,” before smiling and closing her door. 

Fitz trudges to his own room shortly after Skye’s departure and gratefully changes into a clean pair of sweats. He collapses on his bed and stares at the ceiling as he thinks about how he got to this point in his life and, more importantly, how he can get out of it. He thinks of Skye and her notebook of ideas and, for the first time since sneaking out of Jemma’s apartment last week, Fitz is able to fall asleep with a flicker of hope blooming in his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How fitting that this is the chapter up post-finale BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO DROWN MY OWN TEARS IN BEERS. WHAT IN THE HELL WAS THAT?!?!?!?!
> 
> Anyways...
> 
> "Does This Mean We're Over?" will be posted sometime on Saturday and will deal with some more fallout of Fitz's little one-man mission at SciTech. FYI the chapter title may not necessarily involve who you're likely thinking of...
> 
> Many thanks as always for those of you who have stuck with this thing and have been kind enough to kudos/comment. Very, VERY, appreciative.


	23. Does This Mean We're Over?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Skye have a serious chat that pales in comparison to the conversation he has with Mack and the rest of his colleagues at the SHIELD office.

When Fitz wakes up the next morning he spends five minutes just staring at the ceiling wondering how he'd manage to dig himself into a hole this deep. In one fail swoop he'd managed to simultaneously destroy both his personal and pseudo-professional life. 

He’d be impressed if he weren’t so distressed about it. 

He'd turned his phone off last night after the barrage of texts and calls became too much for him to handle, and the constant buzzing made him come close to throwing the device against the wall. Not that he'd answered any of said texts or calls anyways. He hadn't felt up to talking to anyone other than Skye and he feels the same way this morning so, when he finally hoists himself out of bed and makes his way to the kitchen, he leaves his disconnected phone on the bedside table.

Skye is sitting at the small table in the kitchen when he walks in and from the look on her face he knows that their conversation from last night still isn't over. Her hands are folded on the table and she is looking at him speculatively as he crosses the tiled floor and quickly pours himself some cereal. Once the milk has been poured and replaced in its rightful spot in the fridge, he sits down across from Skye and begins to eat.

He's waiting for her to launch into whatever it is that she clearly wishes to say. She’s practically vibrating from trying to hold herself back but, in the end, he doesn't actually have to wait all that long for her to speak. 

"Fitz?" 

"Skye." 

"I've been doing some thinking about your situation and I think I need to make a few things clear." 

"Okay..." 

"You're in the wrong. I'm your friend and I'll help you no matter what but I think it's important for you to realize that, if I was some neutral bystander who didn't know you, I'd think you were a real dick who deserved the brief jailing and subsequent hospitalization." 

Fitz nods slowly at this because he absolutely _does_ realize it. Every bad thing that had happened over the past week was his own fault. He'd done more than one terrible thing and, despite how miserable he feels, he knows he's not the victim in these situations, he's the villain. Maybe it’s a little over dramatic an analogy but in the past two days he's come to realize that he may be the protagonist of _his_ story, but he's most definitely the antagonist in _Jemma's_. 

He's glad that Skye isn't sugar coating anything in this regard because her being aware of the fact just means she'll be that much more efficient in helping him rectify both his actions and himself in general. 

"That being said, I _do_ know you. You're my best friend and I know that your recent actions aren't actually a reflection of who you are as a person. You want to help people Fitz. You always have. You helped me all those years ago and you've helped me everyday since. So now I'm going to help you." 

Fitz gives his friend a watery smile at this, having long since given up on his rather paltry breakfast, and nods his head shakily in appreciation of her words. 

"But Fitz... I _really_ like Jemma. She's awesome, you obviously already know this, and she's quickly become one of my closest friends. I really don't want to do anything to make things between us any more uncomfortable than they already will be after the crap you pulled." 

Fitz nods at this, completely understanding where Skye is coming from. He knows better than anyone how much it sucks having Jemma abruptly removed from your life after becoming such a staple and wouldn't wish the feeling on anyone else, least of all Skye. 

"Yeah I get it. Listen you don't have to do anything to get me out of this mess Skye. I'll figure something out on the Jemma front and then just keep you out of it." 

Skye looks at him as though he's the stupidest person she's ever met and follows the facial expression with the words that only confirm it. "Are you stupid? When did I say I wasn't going to help? I distinctly remember saying I  _was_  going to help. Honestly Fitz where has your brain gone this week?" 

He looks at her in confusion, which only causes her to roll her eyes and open her mouth again in slight exasperation. 

"Of _course_ I'm helping you with Jemma, I just meant that I can't have Jemma _knowing_ I'm helping. Follow?" 

Fitz shakes his head and Skye sighs in testiness while moving her forefingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

"I’m _going_ to help you Fitz. I just meant that I'm not going to do the work for you. I'm not going to pump Jemma for information or pass her messages about you. I'm going to _subtly_ put feelers out there but won't be shoving the topic of 'Fitz' down Jemma's throat at every opportunity. If I hang out with her I'll be doing so because _I_ want to, not because I'm trying to woo her on your behalf. That being said if  _she_  mentions you, I won't hesitate to talk. But I'm not going to lie _for_ you or _about_ you. I’m going to be honest with her. Still with me?" 

Fitz nods even though he feels more confused now than he has in any of the advanced engineering courses he took at university as a kid. Skye stares at him for a moment with a dubious expression before slowing her words. 

"Okaaaaay… good. I feel like you're lying because your eyes are kind of glazing over so I'll try to be more succinct. When I'm with you, I will plan, plot, and do anything else I can think of to help you smooth things over with Jemma. When I'm with _Jemma_ , I will  _not_  bring up said plans and plots. I am both of your confidantes and won't be doing anything for  _you_ that will jeopardize my _own_ friendship with Jemma." 

"So... You'll help me apologize... You just want to make sure she isn't  _aware_  that you're helping me?" 

"Exactly. Ideally, as far as Jemma will know, I'll merely be an impartial third party who won't bring up your name and wax poetic about how great you are or convince her to talk to you before she's ready. _Maybe_ I'll subtly hint at it in passing but… no promises." 

Fitz nods his head slowly at his friend’s words as he process just exactly what it is she’s saying. It’s actually more that what he could have hoped for considering all of the shit he’s pulled and he glances at her with hopeful eyes. 

"Alright well... That actually sounds more than good to me. I appreciate any help you're willing to give me and I don't expect you to do anything that will make you or Jemma uncomfortable." 

Skye sighs in relief at this and Fitz wonders if she genuinely thought his reaction to her terms would be any different. He knows that his actions caused a fracture not only between Jemma and himself, but between Jemma and Skye as well. He doesn't want either of the women to feel uncomfortable around each other because of something _he'd_ done. Their relationship certainly shouldn't suffer just because his and Jemma's had. 

Fitz looks at Skye with a smile, hoping that it’ll convey how much he really _does_ appreciate whatever help she’s willing to give, and leans back into his chair as he drums his fingers on the table 

"Right well... I was thinking that maybe I could start our twelve step apology plan by paying Jemma back. The money won't be a problem but finding a way to actually get it to her might be. I'm not sure I could get within a hundred feet of her right now and you just said you wouldn't be the middleman, middle _woman_ rather, so we have to figure out our best option. Mailing it seems too impersonal…" 

Skye gives him another look that screams how stupid she thinks he is and Fitz snaps his mouth closed as hers opens. 

"Damn straight it's impersonal. It's fine though, _that’s_ something that I’m willing to do considering _I_ was the one who couldn’t foot the bail-bill in the first place. I'll just give Jemma the money when I umm… when I  _havelunchwithherlatertoday_." 

"But you _just_ said you didn't want to... Wait, what?" Fitz’s head jerks up as he processes the second half of Skye’s sentence and notes the sheepish expression on her face. 

“Yeah… Well I was talking to her yesterday, keeping her updated on what was happening to you, and then when the ambulance came I just told her that I’d stop by her apartment today. You know, give her the lowdown on everything and just hang out. I’ve been so caught up with your issues that I haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to Jemma about hers.” 

Fitz nods thoughtfully at this. Skye may be his best friend but she’d quickly grown to be Jemma’s as well and, whether it was intentional or not is, he’d been hogging her lately. Skye looks at him before her gaze shifts to her hands. When she speaks next, her voice is quieter than it’s been all morning and her eyes seem to become a bit misty. 

“She… she was really worried about you. When you passed out I basically just couldn’t stop sobbing and… I think it really scared her. She wouldn’t hang up the phone until the ambulance showed up. And then she _still_ wouldn’t hang up until I sent her visual proofthat I wasn’t _lying_ about actual medical professionals being present.” 

“Vis…Visual proof…?” 

Fitz feels his heart sink at this as he realizes what exactly it is that Skye is implying. He groans and thumps his head on the table, extending his arm in Skye’s direction and does the, ‘give me,’ motion with his hand. Words aren’t needed because he feels her phone drop into his open palm and he moves it under the table until it’s in his line of sight. 

He squints his eyes open and groans again at the image he’s met with. 

He’s still sitting on their living room floor, unconscious and surrounded by the alcohol bottles, but standing around him are a crew of EMTs and various medical equipment. There’s a gurney in the background but all he can focus on his how absolutely atrocious he looks. He’s paler than usual, a real feat considering his naturally pasty complexion, and even in this pixelated picture he can tell how clammy he’d been. If he weren’t sitting in his kitchen now, he’d assume the photographed version of him was dead. 

“This made her feel _better?! I look like a corpse!”_  

His head rises from the table and he looks at Skye in astonishment. She reaches over and grabs her phone from his hand, peering down at it with a grimace. 

“Yeah it’s definitely not the best photo you’ve ever taken but…” 

Fitz’s eyes bug out and all he can do is gape in her direction as she pushes forward. 

“Don’t give me that look! I _told_ you, I needed visual proof for Jemma to believe me! It’s not _my_ fault that you looked like complete and utter shit! That’s on you buddy. I took the picture, sent it to Jemma, and that was that. She told me to text her if I needed anything because, again, she’s like the best human on the planet, and then we hung up.” 

“Oh god. Did she share your sentiment and comment on how I looked like _complete and utter shit_ when she saw that picture?” 

Fitz realizes that he’s already breaking Skye’s rules and questioning her about Jemma but figures it’s an innocuous enough inquiry that he’ll be able to get away with it. 

“Actually… She didn’t really say anything now that I think about it. I sent it to her and she just got really quiet. I thought she might have been… Never mind. Anyways, then she just cleared her throat, wished me luck, and told me to let her know if she could do anything. I thanked her profusely, blubbered about meeting her today for lunch, and then hung up.” 

_I thought she might have been…_

She thought Jemma might have been what? Surely not crying, he wasn’t worth her tears. Still… _maybe._ Maybe Jemma’s concern last night wasn’t strictly the concern of a Doctor towards an ailing patient. _Maybe_ her concern means that, deep down, deep, deep, _deep,_ down, she does still care _slightly_ for him. Maybe he really does have a chance at fixing things with her. 

“I see. Well Skye, what do you say we do a little planning before you head out?” 

Fitz suddenly feels reenergized with the sliver of hope he’d gotten from Jemma’s reaction to his hospitalization and wants to start figuring out how to atone for his actions as soon as possible. Skye seems to share his sentiment and excitedly leans forward, launching into the ideas she’d tentatively schemed the night before. 

They spend the entire morning at the table suggesting and rejecting ideas. For the most part he does the suggesting and Skye does the rejecting, but by 11:30 they have come up with a rough outline for Fitz’s redemption. It’s a bit complicated, and will likely set him back quite a bit of money, but it hits every point that they’d agreed needed to be addressed. 

He glances up at the clock and keeps his eyes trained on it as he asks, “When are you heading over?” 

There _may_ be a small trace of bitterness behind his question but it has nothing to do with feeling as though Skye is abandoning him and _everything_ to do with wishing that it’s _him_ who has the pleasure of meeting Jemma later. Skye follows his eyes and looks at the clock on the wall before jumping up from the table with a shout of surprise. 

“Shit, how long have we been sitting here?! I told her I’d be there in like twenty minutes! Oh man I need to get ready!” 

She hastily runs from the kitchen to her bedroom and Fitz is left staring down at the list of things he needs to do and buy for their scheme. 

Five minutes later Skye returns to the kitchen in a whirlwind and shouts, “Money, money, money,” at him until he makes his way into the living room and grabs his checkbook. He writes the check to Jemma in the amount of $400 for the bail money but then hesitates as he reaches the _Memo_ section on the small slip of paper. There’s so much he wants to say but the one black line won’t suffice. Still, he has to write _something_ so he ignores Skye’s tapping foot and takes a moment to think. 

Finally he remembers a particularly impactful Doctor Who quote that is short enough to fit in the small space but chock full of meaning and sincerity. He just hopes Jemma will recognize it. 

_Imagine the weight I will have to lift._  

-O- 

After Skye heads out Fitz only makes it about twenty minutes alone in their apartment before he realizes that he’ll likely drive himself crazy trying to figure out what she and Jemma might be talking about. When he realizes that he’d been pacing and wringing his hands every second since Skye’s departure, he decides that he’s in desperate need of a distraction. 

He works his way into his bedroom and plucks his phone up from where he’d left it on his bedside table. He turns on the device and groans when he sees how many missed calls and messages had come through over the night. He doesn’t bother reading or listening to any of them and instead just goes into his contact list and clicks on Mack’s number. The other man picks up after the first ring, shouting questions at him before he can even open his mouth, and he waits until it becomes silent before he asks Mack to meet him at the SHIELD offices. The other man agrees readily and agrees again when Fitz tentatively asks him if he’d be willing to call the others and get them to come as well. 

Fitz grabs his jacket from the coat rack on the way out of the apartment and lets his feet carry him to the SHIELD headquarters. He’s the first one there and reaches for the small key in his pocket and unlocks the door. He plops himself down on his favorite couch and bounces his leg up and down as he waits for the others to arrive. He doesn’t have to wait long because within five minutes Mack walks through the door with Hunter, Idaho, and Darcy following close behind. 

Hunter collapses on the seat next to him while the other three sit on the chairs across from him. There’s a tense silence for a few moments before Mack leans forward. “Speak.” 

For the second time in 24 hours he recounts his story from beginning to end. He gives slightly less detail than he did with Skye, but all of the key points are there. He ignores Hunter’s elbow to the ribs when he alludes to what he had been up to the morning of last week’s missed meeting and _also_ ignores Mack’s look of disappointment. 

He’s done pretending that he regrets being with Jemma that night and following morning. He’s sorry that he missed the SHIELD meeting, but he’s not sorry for _why_ he’d missed it. He’s just sorry for how he’d ended up handling the situation. He’s spent weeks choosing SHIELD over Jemma or Jemma over SHIELD and Fitz is finally done thinking that, in order to do something good with SHIELD, he has to sacrifice _someone_ good at SciTech.

The room is silent when Fitz finally finishes his story and everyone looks at him in shock at what he’s just revealed. 

“Bloody hell mate… That’s fucked up.” 

Fitz actually genuinely appreciates Hunter’s comment because it succinctly sums up both his actions and his life in general. _Fucked up indeed._ Darcy is nodding her head in agreement and pointing at Hunter, silently concurring with his statement, and Idaho is just looking at him with his mouth open and eyebrows at his hairline. 

Fitz turns his head slightly to look at Mack. The other man is staring at him in disappointment and Fitz wonders if it’s because of Jemma or his actions with SciTech. He has a feeling that both are equally responsible for the distressed look on Mack’s face. After a few tense moments, the other man sighs as he leans forward and extends his arm towards Fitz. 

“I’m going to need your key to the office Fitz.” 

Fitz’s eyes move from Mack’s outstretched hand to his eyes. The brown gaze is trained on him and he feels something sharp in his gut as he realizes what is likely about to happen. 

“What?” 

Mack’s gaze doesn’t waver and his outstretched hand remains in its position a few feet away from Fitz’s face. 

“You know SHIELD’s policies. _No_ illegal activity, no extremist actions. You _broke in_ to SciTech Fitz. You fucked up their data and got arrested in the process. SHIELD doesn’t tolerate that shit, you _know_ that man, you’re out. I’m sorry.” 

Fitz stares in astonishment at his friend, not fully able to process his words. 

“You can’t be serious…” 

Mack doesn’t so much as blink but his arm drops to slam against the table. 

“Dammit Turbo. This isn’t a game! This protest was your idea but SHIELD didn’t agree to it so you could enact some sort of personal vendetta on SciTech, we agreed to it because we believed in the cause and in you. Your selfishness put a black mark on the organization that won’t be tolerated. You’re out Fitz, you’re done with SHIELD, and SHIELD is done with you.” 

Fitz’s eyes move to look around the small circle of people and he is relieved to see that everyone else looks just as shocked as he feels. Hunter is looking at the other man in bewilderment and Fitz has never felt so appreciative of the other man when he sees that he’s opening his mouth. 

“Mack c’mon, don’t you think that’s a bit much…” 

“Don’t, Hunter. This isn’t your call. And just because I’m the one following protocol doesn’t make it my call either. _I’m following protocol_. SHIELD has rules for a reason and just because Fitz is our friend doesn’t mean he’ll get any special treatment for breaking them.” 

Fitz watches the interaction and with each word Mack says, he feels his hopes sink and a nauseous feeling overwhelm him. When it looks as though Hunter will retaliate Fitz throws out an arm to stop him with a shake of the head. “It’s fine. I get it.” 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys, slowly gliding the SHIELD key from the ring as he stands up. He takes another glance around to look at the faces of his friends and _former_ co-workers before gently placing the key on the table. Darcy leaps up and throws her arms around him in a crushing hug and when she pulls away he sees that her eyes are a bit watery. Idaho gives him a firm handshake and Hunter pats him on the back before stepping in to give him a brief hug. When Hunter pulls away he shoots a glare in Mack’s direction. 

The other man doesn’t make any indication of the display and keeps his eyes trained on the key that is laying on the coffee table. Fitz clenches his jaw and nods once at the lack of reaction before turning around and walking out the door, leaving SHIELD in his wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'mon, of COURSE Mack wouldn't let Fitz stay in SHIELD after what he did. And the TRIALS *hint* that Fitz will be facing aren't over yet.
> 
> That full Doctor Who quote is: "In my culture we believe that when you die your spirit has to carry the souls of everyone you wronged in your lifetime. Imagine the weight I will have to lift.” It's from the episode, 'A Town Called Mercy,' and seemed fitting for Fitz's current predicament so I just went with it.
> 
> Tomorrow's chapter is entitled, "Call In the Cavalry," so... I'll just let your mind wander as to what might transpire and who it might transpire with. (May. May is introduced in the next chapter. It's obvious.)
> 
> My profuse thanks for reading and commenting. We're nearing the finish line and I can't even believe that people have actually stuck with this thing. Means quite a lot!


	24. Call In the Cavalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Skye struggle to figure out how to approach the whole, “tell Jemma the truth about SciTech,” situation and decide to call in for some back-up.

Skye returns to the apartment to once again find Fitz sitting on the floor of the living room. This time he’s staring forlornly at an unopened handle of vodka that is sitting on the coffee table as he sips from an equally large bottle of Poland Spring. 

He looks up to find her staring at him worriedly from the doorway and he gives her a strained smile in an attempt to alleviate her anxiousness. Apparently it doesn’t work because in a moment she’s dropping her purse on the floor, crossing over to him, and plopping on the ground next to him as she wraps her arms around his middle in a tight side hug. 

Fitz returns the gesture and shifts his arm to wrap it around Skye’s shoulder and pull her closer. He’s quiet for a few moments before he decides to break the silence and get the conversation over and done with. He gives a humorless laugh and kicks at the coffee table with his foot. 

“I really wanted a drink, but I figured you probably wouldn’t appreciate having to find me drunk on the floor again so I opted to just stare at it instead.” 

Skye shifts next to him, tilting her head up from where it’s resting on his shoulder, and stares at him worriedly for a moment before speaking. “What happened?” 

Fitz sighs and rubs his hand tiredly over his face and mumbles, “Mack kicked me out of SHIELD,” just loud enough for Skye to hear. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud and his body tenses as his own voice echoes in his ears. 

“What?!” 

Skye pulls back sharply at his words and stares at him in shock as her eyes roam over his face to figure out if he’s telling the truth. Her mouth drops open when he begins to nod. 

“Mmmhmm. Seems my actions of late were deemed to be a direct violation of SHIELD’s code of conduct so… I was given the boot.”

Fitz feels an odd combination of anger and sadness at the words and has the urge to cry and yell simultaneously. Skye opts for the latter option and jumps up to indignantly pace across the living room floor. 

“What the hell. He can’t do that!” 

She’s standing over him now, gesticulating wildly, and Fitz smiles wryly at the sight. 

“Sure he can. My actions _were_ a violation.” 

Skye shakes her head vehemently at this and he knows that she likely won’t accept this turn of events quite as easily as he had. “But Fitz you…” 

He cuts her off because whether her points are valid or not won’t change the fact that what’s done is done. He’s no longer a part of SHIELD and none of her disgruntled muttering will change that. “I knew getting booted was a possibility but… I don’t know. I guess I hoped it wouldn’t happen. That maybe, if anything, I’d be suspended… not kicked out completely.

Skye looks down at him sympathetically and he moves his eyes to the floor so she can’t see the unshed tears. “Oh Fitz…” 

She sits down on the floor again, this time cross-legged in front him with her knees bumping his own, and grabs his hands. She squeezes them once and he gives her a watery smile at the gesture. He removes one of his hands from Skye’s grip to wipe at his eyes and tries to prevent any tears from falling. 

“I _really_ didn’t think Mack would be the one asking for my key to the office. Figured some nameless figure from another branch would do it.” 

Skye nods in agreement and her eyes narrow as she focuses on a piece of lint next to Fitz’s shoulder on the couch. “I can’t _believe_ he did that. Some friend. Was anyone else there?” 

He nods his head and takes a marginally calming breath before releasing it with a long sigh. “Just Hunter, Darcy, and Idaho. Hunter tried to get Mack to reconsider but…” 

Fitz shrugs his shoulders and gestures at himself and his surroundings, not really wanting to verbalize _again_ what had happened with SHIELD. It’s silent for a moment until Skye squeezes his hand. 

“Man… you’ve really had a rough couple of days huh?” 

For some reason Fitz finds this to be absolutely hysterical and immediately begins laughing. Tears stream down his face and he’s not sure if it’s because of the laughter or the despondency that said laughter is hiding, but he doesn’t make any move to wipe them away. When his laughter dies down, Skye crawls into his lap and curls up against him, much like she had during the fiasco with Ward, hugging him tight and simply letting the silence consume them. Fitz breaks it after a few moments as he sighs in frustration. 

“What the hell am I going to do Skye? I lost Jemma, I lost SHIELD, I lost everything.” 

Skye tilts her head up at this and grasps his cheeks between her fingers and talks to him with overwhelming sincerity. “You’ve still got me Fitz. I’m not going anywhere and just because you’re losing hope doesn’t mean I am. We’re _going_ to get Jemma back.” 

Fitz doesn’t want to dampen Skye’s spirits so he refrains from mentioning that the last time he’d checked, Jemma wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to speak with him, let alone ‘take him back,’ so he instead chooses to focus on the other aspect of his life that is currently in shambles. 

“What about SHIELD?” 

Skye jumps up at this and stares down at him with fire in her eyes. “Screw SHIELD! Your last year is almost up Fitz! It’s time to get back to doing what you _really_ love. You’ve done great work with SHIELD and I _know_ how much it means to you but Fitz… you can do _anything!_ I think it’s time you start working on stuff that you can turn into tattoos… And by that I mean engineering.” 

Fitz chuckles at this but actually does let his mind ruminate over Skye’s suggestion. His time _was_ almost up and much of the projects that he hadn’t let escape his mind would take just about the remainder of his non-compete to build and test before being ready for patenting. 

“And as far as the Jemma thing goes… based on what I heard from her today, the first thing you need to do is be honest. Tell her everything.” 

Fitz groans at this and lets his head fall back against the couch. “That’s the problem though isn’t it? Half of the stuff I need and _want_ to tell her is stuff that I _legally_ can’t talk about.” 

Skye pauses at this and places her hands on her hips as she contemplates his dilemma. Finally her eyes light up and she looks down at him with her standard mischievous grin. 

“We need to bring in the Cavalry.” 

Fitz rolls her eyes because of _course_ Skye would find an excuse to bring her boyfriend over. “Skye, you know I’m always happy to see Trip but I’m not really sure how much help he’ll be right now.” 

Skye kneels in front of him, quirking an eyebrow as her smile grows and she begins to shake her head slowly at him. “Not the Cavalry I was referring to Fitz.” 

“Wha…” 

He looks at her in confusion and she just stares at him, slowly and deliberately nodding as she raises her eyebrows up and down. It’s that look that makes the pieces click in his brain and his own eyes widen as he realizes what it is that Skye’s getting at. 

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I don’t want her to see how much I’ve screwed everything up again.” He shakes his head vehemently at her and crosses his arms as best he can. 

“Fitz, we _have_ to. Jemma needs to know _everything_ but we have absolutely no idea how much SciTech really fucked you over with that NDA. Come on, you know I’m right. She’s the _only_ person at SciTech that supported you and left the company when you got the axe.” 

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea…” 

“May did all of the paperwork for your contracts and Non-Disclosure Agreements before she bounced, she can _help._ She might know about some sort of loophole that’ll let you tell Jemma all of the stuff you’ve been keeping from her!” 

-O- 

By some miracle May agrees to meet with them that evening so he and Skye are now seated at a booth in Lola’s Diner waiting for the older woman to join them. Fitz is fidgeting in the booth as his eyes keep flitting towards the door and Skye keeps kicking him beneath the table because he’s _making her nervous._

Phil brings them each a milkshake and a plate of fries to share and Skye smiles gratefully at him while Fitz just shakily twitches in a pale attempt at a head-nod. He eagerly slurps at his shake in an attempt to calm his nerves but every time the bell above the diner’s door rings his head snaps up. Finally Skye demands that he switches seats with her so that she’s facing the door and he’s left placing his head on the table to prevent himself from turning around every five seconds. 

A few minutes later he notices Skye straighten in her seat and wave to someone behind him. He counts to eleven before Melinda May is standing next to him with her usual face of impassiveness. Evidently his face shows a bit more emotion because May raises her eyebrows, shares a look with Skye, and then shoos Fitz in so that she can sit beside him. 

“Tell me everything and don’t leave anything out. I need to know what we’re dealing with.” 

Fitz and Skye spend the next ten minutes regaling May with all the details of Fitz’s life since his departure from SciTech. They tell her all about his involvement with SHIELD and the organization’s recent war with SciTech. May gives Fitz a stern look at this so Skye barrels forward and moves on to the part of the story that she had been most looking forward to sharing with the older woman. 

Skye details everything about Fitz and Jemma’s rollercoaster relationship. May sighs in disappointment when they reach the part about Fitz’s arrest and he hangs his head in shame. His head lowers even more when Skye brings up his hospital visit and May turns to look at him with worry. Fitz fills in whatever details Skye misses and when they finish the tale May waves Coulson over and orders a black coffee. They wait in silence as Coulson fills May’s mug and Skye raises an eyebrow at the way the older man is smiling as he leaves their table with a promise to, “Bring them all a slice of pie.” 

May sips at her coffee in silence and Fitz begins to tap his fingers anxiously against the table. 

“Fitz.” 

His fingers immediately stop moving at the sound of May’s voice and he turns to look at her with wide eyes and a hesitant expression. 

“I thought we agreed that you were going to stay out of trouble.” She quirks an eyebrow at him as she speaks and he sinks down in his seat as she does. 

“Let me tell you May, I _really_ tried to keep him in check but… he’s way more high maintenance than we thought he’d be.” Skye cracks a smile at the other woman in an attempt at some levity. May merely sighs at the girl and focuses her gaze on Fitz. 

He groans in frustration and lets his head drop on the table. “I _know_ May. I really messed up and now I’m just trying to fix it. But… Skye thought we might need your help…” 

“…because you’ve finally realized that this Jemma Simmons deserves to know the truth, and you need me to help you figure out what exactly you’re allowed to tell her?” 

May finishes his sentence knowingly, which causes Skye to clap her hands excitedly. “Yes! That’s exactly it!” 

May takes a slow sip of her coffee before casually speaking. “You can tell her everything.” 

Fitz’s mouth gapes open at this as he stares at May’s serious expression. “What?!” 

May glances at him and gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “So long as you don’t reveal any _specifics_ about the actual work you conducted at SciTech, and provide no details about whatever research or schematics you did during your time there, you can tell Jemma everything.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

The words escape his mouth before he remembers whom he’s talking to. 

“Fitz!” Skye looks appalled and reaches over the table to smack him on the head as May just raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Sorry. But… but are you? Are you being serious right now? Because I’ve spent _years_ keeping my job at SciTech to myself and a few select people for fear of being arrested or sued for millions of dollars!” 

“Both of those things still might happen.” May’s words are sharp and he and Skye both flinch at them. 

“What?!” Fitz’s mouth drops open again and he thinks he’s done more gaping over the past few weeks than he has in his entire life. 

May turns to him seriously and he sees a flicker of worry behind her eyes. “Fitz, you broke into a government research building and destroyed what equates to millions of dollars worth of research. You may not get in trouble for breaching your NDA… but I doubt you’ll escape from this without facing _any_ consequences. SciTech is going to come down hard on you Fitz, you need to be prepared for that.” 

He nods his head at this and thinks of the envelope that had been handed to him upon his release from jail that holds a slip of paper with his scheduled court date printed in small black letters. He sinks lower into his seat and rubs his hands over his face in misery. 

Skye and May both reach for him simultaneously and he’s marginally comforted by the warmth of their hands on his shoulders. When he takes his hands away Skye is looking at him worriedly and he’s once again reminded that his actions are having rippling consequences for more than just him. 

Skye turns to look at May and opens her mouth but before she can say anything Coulson is returning with three slices of apple pie and accompanying ice cream. May’s slice looks to be about twice the size of his and Skye’s put together and he almost bursts out laughing when he sees Coulson’s blushing face and small smile. Skye actually does let out a small laugh when the other man walks away and May is left with what is essentially half a pie in front of her. 

Skye’s laughter dies down slowly and then she begins to nibble at her thumbnail. She turns worriedly back to May and looks more vulnerable than Fitz has seen her in awhile. “Is there any way you can help him?” 

May glances between them sympathetically. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises. This isn’t like last time Fitz, it’s not an internal dispute between you and an employer. You committed an actual crime and it’s going to be tough. I just need you to set reasonable expectations for yourself.” 

Fitz nods glumly at this, already picturing an orange jumpsuit, and sighs dejectedly as he realizes how low his expectations already are. He picks up his fork and begins to slowly work his way through the pie as May and Skye discuss possible options. He’s completely done with the topic, only answering questions asked directly to him, and just wants to go home and curl up in his bed. After another twenty minutes May asks him when his hearing is and nods solemnly when he mutters, “Friday.” 

“Well then. I’d better start seeing if there’s anything I can find that might help. I’ll keep you two posted and if there’s anything you can think of that may be an asset, give me a call.” May gives a small smile to Skye and squeezes Fitz’s shoulder before standing up and walking out of the diner. 

Coulson appears out of nowhere to clear their table and looks a bit dejected at the sight of May’s untouched pie. “Don’t look so glum Coulson. She ate my smaller piece when she caught me eyeing the bigger one. Said it was the best pie she’d had in her life.” 

Fitz isn’t sure why the lie comes out but seeing Phil’s bashful smile makes a smaller one appear on his own face. Skye gives him a knowing look that makes him sigh and scoot out of the booth. He holds out his hand to her and she doesn’t hesitate to grab it. “C’mon Skye, let’s go home.” 

“To plot.” 

She squeezes his hand lightly and tugs at it as she pulls him towards the exit. Fitz smiles at this and, despite all of the terrible things that had happened over the past week, he feels a surge of determination run through him. The reason he’s in this mess at all is because of his own actions and poor decisions.

Meaning that it’ll be _his_ actions that get him out of it. 

“Yes Skye. To plot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May is on the case! Maybe Fitz has a chance yet!
> 
> Tuesday's chapter is called, "The Truth About Fitz, the Truth About SciTech," and we'll FINALLY hear Fitz's reasoning for his supreme dislike for SciTech. More importantly, JEMMA, will hear his reasoning and we'll witness part demux of the FitzSimmons confrontation.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading/commenting/kudosing etc. I appreciate it a heck of a lot and am always excited to see where you think this thing's going.


	25. The Truth About Fitz, the Truth About SciTech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz have a long overdue conversation where the latter is finally honest about his real struggles with SciTech, and explains the reasoning behind his desire to bring down the company.

Fitz is sitting on his bed, digesting his pie, and watching as Skye paces in front of him, gesticulating wildly while she moves across the room. “So from what I could tell, Jemma was equal parts furious and heartbroken. As in one second she would be devastated and the next second she’d remember the shit you pulled with her and suddenly be seething.”

Fitz nods at this, wincing slightly at the visual image that Skye’s words have created. “Right. Yeah, no that sounds about right.” 

Skye barrels on without so much as glancing at him. “Like… it was actually a little unsettling to witness.” 

Fitz nods again and bites his lip, well aware of how unsettling the sight of an upset Jemma Simmons is. “Yeah, no, I get it Skye.” 

“Because she’d be _pissed_ and yelling…” 

“I got it…” 

“…and then she’d basically be crying in my lap.” 

“Skye!” Fitz is kneeling on his bed now so that he’s eye level with his roommate. He gives her a pleading look in the hopes that she’ll quit making him listen to her detailed description of a crying Jemma. 

Skye turns to him as though she’s just now realizing that he’s in the room and shoots him a moderately sympathetic look. She flops down on his bed and stares at the ceiling as she pats the space next to her. “Right… Sorry. My point was that nobody would get _that_ upset if they didn’t actually _care._ I guess it just ended up being a reminder of what an assho…” 

He collapses on the bed next to her and groans, raising his voice in an attempt to cut her off. “Yup. Got it.” 

“…le you’ve been.” Skye finishes with a smug grin and Fitz rolls his eyes at her need to get the last word in. He sighs as he reflects on her words and again feels the pessimism seep into him as he thinks about Simmons. He turns his head on the pillow to face Skye with a contemplative expression. 

“So we know that I’ve upset Jemma in every imaginable way. She’s upset in the angry sense, _and_ she’s upset in the sad sense, so the question is: what do I do to… un-upset her?” 

Skye takes a deep breath and exhales slowly as she keeps her eyes on the ceiling. “Therein lies our problem huh?” She turns to face him thoughtfully and raises an eyebrow in contemplation. “Because Jemma isn’t like most girls. Not that either of us really _know_ many girls to compare her to but… I guess in general she’s just not like most people.” 

“She’s better.” Fitz’s words are quiet but Skye is close enough to hear them. 

She moves her hand to pat him affectionately on the cheek and gives him a small smile. “Yes, I agree, but that’s not exactly what I was getting at when I said she’s not like most people. I meant that your apology is going to have to be _way_ bigger and _way_ better than the standard flowers and chocolates.” 

“Right.” Fitz nods his head at her words but quickly turns his head to face the ceiling so she can’t see his slight blush. 

_Note: scrap the flower delivery._  

Skye sighs again and rubs her temples with her fingers. “Also… you’re apologizing for _way_ worse stuff than forgetting a birthday. _You_ are apologizing for sneaking out of her apartment after sex, stealing from her, breaking into her workplace, destroying all of her research, making her bail you our of jail, and _then_ forcing her to help you through a bout of alcohol poisoning _eight hours later.”_

“Okay well… Technically _you’re_ responsible for that last par…” 

Skye turns to shoot him a glare and Fitz quickly changes the direction of his comments. “Never mind. Yes we already know that I have a lot to apologize for... So how do we approach the actual apology?” 

Skye is silent for a moment as she ruminates his question and Fitz begins to fidget slightly on the bed as he waits for her to share _any_ suggestion that might come to mind. Her fingers tap against her stomach before stilling as she tilts her face in his direction. 

“I’m thinking that it needs to be a multi-prong approach. There needs to be different levels of apologies for each terrible, awful, douchey, thing you did.” 

Fitz exhales at this and nods his head slowly. He agrees completely with what she’s said, but Skye’s words still haven’t given him much indication about what it is he should actually _do_ for these mysteriously vague methods of repenting. “What are you thinking? List all of the things I have to apologize for and then figure out what I should do for each?” 

Skye turns to him slowly and a small smile begins to form on her face. She quirks her eyebrow in pleasant surprise and nudges him with her shoulder. “You know Fitz, that’s not a bad idea. The bigger the betrayal means the bigger the deserved apology.” She begins to speak faster as she gets increasingly excited about their plan of action. “We can start with the smaller stuff, and then each day you can step it up a notch and work your way to the bigger stuff.” 

He feels his mind begin to whir at Skye’s words as he thinks of the possibilities behind her suggestion. “Yeah… Yeah! Like… I know you said not to but… Maybe flowers and chocolates one day, TeaTime pastries another, I could try to make her that sandwich she made me… Or… Oh! I could draw her some stuff maybe? Like a design for some of the side projects she mentioned? I don’t know.” 

He groans and covers his face with his hands in frustration as he listens to himself talk. He can hear how stupid the ideas are, which is why he’d begged Skye to help him in the first place. None of that stuff would _ever_ work on a normal girl, let alone Jemma, and Fitz once again feels overwhelmed by the doubt that is consuming him. “This is hopeless.” 

“No, no, no! Don’t say that Fitz. That stuff is all a good start. And we’ll figure out the big stuff as we go along.” Skye rolls over and pillows herself on his stomach as she wraps her arms around his middle and gives him a hug. “This is your redemption arc Fitz, it’s not going to be easy and it may not even _work,_ but if you’re willing to at least put in the effort… maybe you’ve got a shot.” 

Fitz sighs again at this and Skye shifts to face him. “There’s one more thing that I didn’t mention about my lunch with Jemma…” 

He tenses at her words and Skye must feel it beneath her because she quickly moves to sit up. “It’s nothing you don’t already know… She just said that she wasn’t ready to see you at present…” 

His shoulders sag a bit and he looks forlornly at where his fingers are fiddling against his stomach. Fitz bobs his head at her words, agreeing that it wasn’t something he didn’t already know, but doesn’t actually make a comment about it. Skye hovers above him and gives him an imploring look. 

“And I _promised_ her that I’d do everything to make sure you honor that wish. So _honor that wish_ Fitz. Please?” 

He doesn’t nod or answer and Skye’s begging face quickly morphs into a stern one. “Fitz, do _not_ go see Jemma, okay? I’m serious. We both know that you’ll say or do something stupid that will completely ruin any progress that our plans could _potentially_ have.” 

He doesn’t meet her eyes when he mumbles, “I won’t.” 

Skye looks at him for a moment and must not believe him because she grabs his arm and gives him a warning look. “I’m _serious_ Fitz. Under no circumstances are you to see Jemma Simmons alone or without my permission. Clear?” 

He turns to face her with a sad smile, “Yeah, crystal.”

-O- 

On Monday afternoon Fitz does exactly what Skye warned him not to do and heads over to Jemma’s apartment. He doesn’t necessarily _intend_ to walk over to Jemma’s. He’d just decided that he was in need of some fresh air and, when he realizes that he just happens to be in the area of her neighborhood, he decides that now is as good a time as any to resume his apology tour. 

It takes Fitz a full thirty minutes to work up the courage to knock on Jemma’s door. He walks up and down the six fights of stairs four times before he manages to actually stay on Jemma’s floor. He paces the hallway for ten minutes before actually stopping at her door, and then waits another five before actually raising his fist and knocking. 

Fitz waits with baited breath as he listens for any sign of movement on the other side of the door. After a few agonizing seconds he’s about to give up and turn around when he hears the metal of the chain lock grind on the other side of the wooden frame. 

In the next moment Jemma is opening the door and glancing up at him with the caramel eyes that never fail to leave him breathless. The second she sees that it’s him Jemma inhales sharply and her hand immediately moves to slam the door shut. Fitz knows that he has the shortest of windows to be heard so he follows the path of the closing door and shouts through the opening just as it slams in his face. 

“I used to work for SciTech!” 

It’s silent for a moment as Fitz stares at the wood of the door and he holds his breath hoping that Jemma had heard him. More importantly, if she _had_ heard what he’d said, he hopes that she’s now willing to _listen_ to him. He only waits for about three seconds after the door slams in his face before it opens just as quickly and he’s met with the sight of Jemma standing in front of him with a look of shock. 

“ _What?_!” 

Fitz doesn’t hesitate to jump at the chance to speak, well aware that Jemma’s brief period of astonishment means that her anger with him has momentarily been put on the back burner. 

“I worked there for two years. SciTech is the company that stole my designs, blacklisted me and… and I… I was also the one who had done the original GH325 research in the lab before you.” 

She’s silent for a moment and stares at him with her mouth open. He gives her a tentative smile, which quickly causes her face to morph into one of complete passivity. Jemma’s look is still more of a glare than anything, but Fitz thinks he sees her begin to waver, as her curiosity seems to officially overtake her displeasure with him. He stands in the hallway, practically vibrating with nerves, and shoves his hands in his pockets as he waits for Jemma to make up her mind about him. 

Fitz holds his breath as she opens her door wider and nods her head towards her apartment. He stands still for a moment, not really believing that Jemma’s actually inviting him inside considering what happened the last time they were there together, and finally she quirks an eyebrow at him in irritation. “Come in and explain, or go home and leave me the hell alone.” 

Jemma’s tone, and the less than subtle ultimatum, causes Fitz to immediately take a step forward and move past her into the apartment. He hears the door shut behind him and feels Jemma brush past him as she heads towards the living room. She sits down on the couch and when he moves to do the same she levels him with a look that quickly has him switching his course and sitting in the chair that is slightly further away. 

They’re silent for a moment and Fitz’s mouth opens and shuts at least a dozen times before he finally finds the courage to speak. “I… I’m not really sure where to start.” 

Jemma huffs at this and crosses her arms as her eyes lock onto his in a steely glower. “Starting at the beginning would be preferable.” 

“Yes. Yes okay… Right.” He takes a deep breath, looks at Jemma once to confirm that this is in fact about to happen, and begins to tell her everything that he’d spent the past few weeks hiding from her. 

“I was at a tech conference five years ago giving a presentation on one of my designs. After the talk John Garrett approached me and he offered me a position at SciTech as the lead tech-developer. I was only 21! I was young and naïve and excited that someone was interested in my work so I jumped at the opportunity and barely skimmed the contract before signing. Granted, Garrett and SciTech told me that the offer was only on the table for the duration of the conference, so I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to run through the pros and cons and process all of the fine print.” 

He pauses to take a breath and notes the way that Jemma seems to tense at his words. She straightens when she sees him staring and motions for him to continue. 

“Right. Anyways, the first year was surprisingly pretty great. I was even less of a people person then as I am now so I was actually pleased when I found out that I’d be sequestered in my own lab to work on my designs. I don’t think I could have named three other employees that worked at SciTech at the same time I did because I spent every hour alone in my lab.” 

Jemma continues to stare at him and the fact that she’s still even listening motivates him to keep talking. 

“Looking back I realize that it was just another way for SciTech to make sure that… if and when I ever stopped working for them… nobody would really miss me or realize that they’d been taking all of my designs and prototypes and selling them through the company name. But at the time I was just excited to have an entire lab to myself! SciTech made sure I had every resource at my disposal and all I had to do was design things that could be applied in more than one field. It was basically a dream.”

Jemma nods her head in agreement but has a faraway look in her eyes that causes Fitz to pause. She isn’t looking at him, instead staring ahead with an emptiness that perturbs him. He knows better than to ask her about it though so he tries to get rid of it by continuing to talk. 

“Anyways… I spent that first year working on a set of robots designed to extract and analyze various data…” 

“The DWARFs?!” 

Jemma’s voice makes Fitz jump in surprise because there’s no anger or irritation behind it. He watches open-mouthed as Jemma scoots over on the couch until she’s on the side nearest to him. 

“ _You_ designed the DWARFs?! I came up with a few adjustments for them and put in an inquiry to the head of the Tech Division requesting to set up a meeting with the scientist who’d designed them! I never got any response and when I couldn’t find any of the original schematics, I just gave up and focused my attention elsewhere.” 

Fitz’s face lights up in enthusiasm because he hasn’t had someone to talk to about his designs in _ages_ , if ever, and the fact that it’s Jemma who’s expressing interest in them makes him feel completely buoyant. 

“Seriously?! Yeah! I designed them my first year there but was only able to build and test the first betas before I got ‘dismissed’.” 

The smile that had begun to bloom across Jemma’s face drops instantly at the word _dismissed_ and Fitz feels his heart sink when she again moves on the couch, this time away from him. She doesn’t go as far as where she’d originally been sitting though, so Fitz chooses to take it as a small, _miniscule,_ victory. 

“Yes, right. For a moment I got so caught up in your story that I’d forgotten how it ended.” 

Jemma’s face is completely devoid of emotion now but for the brief second it took her to put the façade in place, Fitz glimpses a flicker of pure hurt. Jemma’s eyes quickly glance around the apartment, pausing briefly when they flit down the hallway, and Fitz has to swallow the guilt as he realizes what unhappy ending Jemma is actually referring to. 

Fitz’s gaze lands on where his hands are fiddling in his lap and he waits a few moments to make sure his voice won’t crack when he resumes his story. 

“Yeah… Yeah it didn’t end well. After that first year I started to realize that all of my designs and devices were being appropriated by SciTech and _that’s_ when I found out that the contract I’d signed basically gave them the rights to everything. I was upset about it and ended up turning to Melinda May, one of the employees in the legal department, to see if there was any way I could actually get credit and some sort of compensation for my work. When I realized there wasn’t, I decided to just slow my pace and started to take about three times as long to get the projects done.” 

He pauses to take a breath and make sure Jemma’s still paying attention before continuing. “After about six months of this the big wigs seemed to catch on to what I was doing and called me in to discuss my “role” at SciTech. At this point they were basically just threatening me with everything under the sun to get me to start picking up the pace. Garrett even came up to me and told me that if I didn’t move things along I’d only be hurting the people I care about.” 

Jemma’s eyebrows raise at this before they furrow slightly as she tries to work out what it is he’s getting at. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t really understand what he meant by that until Skye caught her then-boyfriend, an employee on the legal team, cheating on her with _another_ SciTech legal employee, Garrett’s step-daughter.” 

Jemma’s mouth drops open at this and her eyes widen in shock as she processes his words. 

“Obviously umm… Obviously the relationship ended after that. Garrett basically said that my dawdling was the reason for it... I guess when I kept at my slow pace, Garrett decided to set up Ward and Raina and… I don’t know _how_ he knew Skye would catch them… but she did. Catch them that is. She was _devastated,_ I’ve never seen her so upset in my life and all I could think about was the fact that it was _my_ fault.” 

Jemma looks up sharply at this and Fitz swallows at the sight. He’s been carrying around the guilt for the demise of _that_ particular relationship for years and has spent more than one sleepless night wondering what would have happened if he’d just done his damn job. Usually that train of thought is quickly noticed by Skye, who proceeds to remind him that she’s head over heels for Trip and has never been in a better relationship. 

Still, the thought that SciTech could so easily play God in his life leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

“I… I could have just sucked it up and done the work but instead… Instead I did what I always do and picked the selfish route. If I had just _done the work,_ Skye never would’ve…” 

He takes a deep breath and clenches his hands into fists as he thinks about what he and his best friend now ominously refer to as the Dark Days. 

“She left for awhile. Took off in the middle of the night and I didn’t see her for almost two months. She’d send me the sporadic email to make sure I knew she was okay but… I don’t know. I thought she left because she hated me. Figured she blamed me for being used by Ward and SciTech like that. I certainly blamed _myself_ so I couldn’t really fault her for doing the same and leaving but… I dunno.” 

He sighs again at this and rubs his hand over his face in exhaustion. He chances a glance at Jemma, whose mouth is slightly open and her eyes seem to be swarming with a range of thoughts and emotions. Fitz can see her empathy for Skye written plainly across Jemma’s face and once again marvels at her ability to be so inherently kind. He lets his hands fall back into his lap and leans back slightly in his chair as he continues. 

“There wasn’t much I could do, she didn’t have her regular phone on her, so I just deposited all of my work paychecks into her account while she was away, figured SciTech more than owed her. She’s never really told me what she did during those two months… always just vaguely says she was visiting some friends. Anyways… one day I just came back to the apartment and she was home.” 

He looks down at his hands before rubbing his face again and shutting his eyes at the memory of a sobbing Skye curled up in the fetal position on their couch. Fitz had burst into tears the second he’d opened the door and saw her there. His sniveling of course got Skye’s attention and caused her to immediately vault over the couch and barrel into his arms with a sob. They’d spent the entire weekend huddled in the living room, eating gallon upon gallon of ice cream and making up for lost time. 

“I told her that I’d tried to quit SciTech while she was away…” 

Jemma looks up in slight surprise at this and Fitz just nods his head and motions dismissively as though that particular fact wasn’t worth anyone’s time or interest. 

“Yeah, the day after Skye left I tried to quit but was reminded that there was a clear stipulation that I had to complete _all_ of the prototypes I was working on or else I’d basically be sued for whatever monetary amount SciTech had put into them. Total bullshit but those assholes pulled that crap with a colleague a couple of months before so I knew it was more of a fact than a threat.” 

He pauses briefly to think of the complete internal chaos that had occurred at SciTech when that situation occurred and clenches his fists when he remembers that the public remained none the wiser thanks to the company’s crafty legal team. He shakes his head to snap himself out of it before he gets too worked up and quickly launches back in. 

“So I was basically forced to stay, put in my time, and do the opposite of what I’d been doing for the past few months. AKA work as hard and fast as possible on all of the designs that had piled up in my queue.” 

Fitz feels his mouth growing dryer by the second as he tells his story but knows better than to ask for a glass of water. Instead he barrels forward and decides that the faster he talks, the quicker the weight on his shoulders might be lifted. 

“I’ve never worked more hours in my life, went in at 6 and left at 10 just trying to get as much done as quickly as possible. Apparently my diligence was mistaken by the big wigs as a newfound loyalty to SciTech and after a few weeks Garrett, Sitwell, and Pierce called me in for a meeting to discuss a new project that they wanted me to work on. They’d… they’d acquired the GH325 drug, along with the sole testing rights, and felt that I’d be the perfect chump to work on it.”  
  
Fitz narrows his eyes slightly at this and blushes immediately at the raised eyebrow that Jemma is directing towards him. He’d briefly forgotten that she was the _second_ perfect chump chosen for the project and internally groans at his slip-up. Fitz coughs once to clear his now raspy throat and continues forward, hoping that Jemma won’t call him out for the unintentional dig. 

“They essentially said that, if I didn’t accomplish anything with the new project, SciTech would see to it that I’d be done working in the engineering field all together, so I agreed to give it a go. I figured it’d be the easiest way to make them happy and get out from under them without issue when my contract was up. They let me do all of the preliminary research and, after reading my findings, they called me in again with a new task. They wanted me to try to figure out if there was any way I could use some of the GH325 properties to stabilize a device that the company had been working on before I was hired…” 

“Centipede.” 

Fitz feels himself grow cold at Jemma’s words. He thought he’d done a pretty decent job of making sure that the blueprints to the device were destroyed but… If Jemma knows about Centipede enough to namedrop it so quickly… That means the project has resurfaced. He gapes at her and feels his face go white. 

“You… you know about the Centipede Project? Did they try to get you to work on it? Jemma you _can’t_ you really _can’t_ do it…” 

“Fitz…” 

“If anyone can make that device work it’s you and, Jemma it’s _dangerous…_

“Fitz…” 

“It’s completely unstable and the GH325 is the catalyst for the whole damn thing! They’re going to try to mass produce it which is why I des…” 

_“FITZ!”_  

He stops talking, partly because she shouts his name in a manner that makes her sound just like Skye, but mostly because during his rant she’d shifted closer to him again and placed her hand on his knee. He glances down at it in surprise and has to watch in disappointment as Jemma hastily removes it and puts it back in her own lap. 

She coughs uncomfortably, glancing away quickly before turning back towards him. “I’m not working on the Centipede Project. Kenneth, one of the lab technicians, had mentioned it in passing and it caught my interest. I asked around but nobody else knew much about it so I just assumed it was an old project that had been dropped and forgotten about before I was hired.” 

Fitz sighs in relief at this because the last person he’d wish to see get caught up in all of that Centipede nonsense is Jemma. The relief is short-lived however because Jemma continues speaking. 

“I’d completely forgotten about it until Sitwell and Pierce brought it up at that lunch meeting you made such a scene at…” 

Fitz leaps to his feet at this and stands over her as his face reddens. “Bloody hell Jemma… I’d have made a far bigger scene if I knew the topic of discussion was _Centipede._ ” 

Jemma shoots him a glare at this but Fits isn’t willing to back down on this one. Her eyes narrow when she realizes that he’s not going to apologize or retract his statement and she crosses her arms as she pins him with her gaze 

“Are you going to let me finish or would you rather just take the opportunity to sneak out of my house again?” 

Fitz’s mouth snaps shut at this and his cheeks redden. He sinks back into his chair and glowers at her somewhat petulantly. He realizes that in the grand scheme of things, _he’s_ notthe one who has the right to be acting so cross, but in _this moment_ he takes Jemma’s jab and lets himself be affected by it. “Yeah, whatever. Continue.” 

“Oh thanks _so_ much for the permission.” Jemma rolls her eyes and pushes herself against the far armrest of the couch before glaring at him with derision. 

“As I was saying… the lunch meeting, though focused primarily on the research I had described in the grant, was also used by Sitwell and Pierce as a means of formally introducing me to the Centipede Project. They’d begun to show me the newest schematics… designed by Seth Dormer, the current head of the tech division… and I got a good look at what it is they were hoping to create. The designs were rather startling in their own right but then I was told that whatever GH325 research I’d conduct would likely be handed off to the tech department to be incorporated into the Centipede devices. Naturally I found it to be rather appalling, and I told them as much. They didn’t seem too appreciative of this and told me that I didn’t necessarily have a choice in the matter.” 

Fitz lets his face fall at this because it means that, like him, Jemma would be used as a tool for SciTech’s schemes. He’s so despondent at the thought that it takes him a full minute to process her next statement. 

“But, unlike _you_ , I actually _did_ read my contract before signing with SciTech and, though generally satisfied, I was perturbed by the amount of control they wanted over me and my research. So I decided to make a few tweaks and have my lawyer add something to the paperwork. Apparently _SciTech’s_ legal teamdidn’t read the adjustment before signing, because both Pierce and Sitwell seemed rather surprised to discover that the rights to any and all research _I_ conduct at SciTech belongs to _me._ Meaning that it’s all my intellectual property and SciTech needs _my_ approval to incorporate the GH325 research I conducted into any projects other than what had been specified in my grant. They were really quite stupid to overlook that.” 

Fitz’s mouth falls open at Jemma’s words. He is left completely and utterly stunned and can’t even believe that someone so intelligent actually exists. Not only does she exist, but he’s lucky enough to actually _know_ her. 

“Oh thank god you complete and utter genius.” 

Fitz slumps back into his chair and feels the tears begin to prickle at his eyes as he fully processes what it is that Jemma has told him. He must look an absolute wreck because when he glances up again, Jemma’s glower is gone and instead there’s a look of trepidation on her face. He sniffles once and opens his mouth before snapping it shut. He blinks sluggishly trying to work up the strength to finish his story and steels himself as he opens his mouth again. 

“They went behind my back and used my research for unauthorized testing since _I_ didn’t have any control over anything I did.” 

Jemma’s mouth falls open again and her eyes are fixed on his face. 

“I umm… I was in the lab late, as usual, and I went to grab a snack from the vending machine when I saw the lights on in the testing labs. They… they tried to combine the GH325 serum with the Centipede prototypes but… but _neither_ was ready for any sort of individual testing let alone _combined_ testing.” 

Fitz can feel himself getting worked up again and takes a second to get control of himself. 

“I guess they started with the mice, then the rats, then the cats… They just assumed that the reason it wasn’t working was because the formula was designed for larger species. So umm… So by the time I caught wind of it, nearly thirty animals were dead and umm… Henry, the chimp I’d feed during my lunch breaks… he was the last one to be tested on. He umm… he only lasted five minutes. I saw the whole thing start to finish. Couldn’t believe it. It umm… it was horrible and I didn’t really realize what was going on until I saw all of my research written out on the whiteboards in the lab.” 

Jemma’s face seems to drop with each word he says and Fitz can feel his heart hammering in his chest as he prepares to tell her the rest. “I wigged out. Started screaming at how unethical it all was and… And it didn’t make a damn difference. Nobody listened to me, they just told me go home and come back the next day when I’d calmed down. But… But when I _did_ come back the next day… I found a whole bunch of forms that detailed how they were going to proceed with _human_ testing.” 

Fitz just barely hears Jemma’s sharp intake of breath over his hammering heart and can feel the headache that is forming behind his eyes. 

“They were beginning the process of finding volunteers, most of them poor saps with long-term illnesses that were desperate to try to find anything that might give them a few more years with their families, and I… I lost it again. I couldn’t believe they were trying to move forward with the project after seeing what a failure it was and… and I decided that if they weren’t going to use common sense… I’d make sure mine was enough.” 

Fitz can see the way Jemma’s hands are clenched in her lap and has a feeling that she has a pretty good idea where his story is headed. Considering his recent _lack_ of common sense, Fitz is sure that Jemma is more than aware of what kind of decisions he makes when overly emotional in certain situations. 

“Ironically, the day Skye came home was the same day I got _dismissed_ from SciTech for destroying whatever I could of the Centipede project. That was before the strict, ‘upload all data to the SciTech server,’ rule so all I had to do was delete my own files and shred a couple of blueprints. Got caught just as the last one was getting destroyed and was then shredded _myself_ by the legal team. Got fired on the spot, lost the almost zero control I had over my work, and was told that I wouldn’t be able to get a job in engineering for the foreseeable future.” 

Fitz’s hands clench at his side and blinks quickly as he feels the rage begin to simmer within him again. 

“I didn’t really care though. I was so furious, and told them I’d just tell anyone who would listen about all of the unauthorized testing they were doing, and how much of their practices warranted a closer look by the NIH and BCLP. They just laughed in my face and pointed at the big fat NDA I’d signed. I was basically done for. They didn’t even let me pack up my stuff, just called Theo and had me escorted out of the building. Took me almost an hour to walk home, I was in such a daze, and when I saw Skye I just… I just broke. She was just another reminder of how much I failed. I was a SciTech puppet that was responsible for who _knows_ how many animal deaths, and more personally I was also responsible for my best friend’s misery and…” 

“Stop.” 

Jemma’s voice is soft but the word comes out so sharply that Fitz immediately closes his mouth and snaps his gaze to her. Her eyes have the same fire that he’s grown accustomed to seeing and he worries for a moment about once again being on the receiving end of her wrath. 

“Fitz… That… None of _that_ was your fault. You… You can’t blame yourself for what SciTech did, or what they _made_ you do, and you _especially_ can’t blame yourself for the fact that Skye’s ex is a complete douchebag who had no right being in a relationship with her. That’s not on you and… You need to know that.” 

Jemma is looking at him so earnestly that, for the first time, Fitz actually believes that he may not be as at fault for those past mistakes as he’s convinced himself for years. He blinks slowly as he processes her vehemence and becomes lost in a stupor as he takes her in. Her face is serious and all Fitz can do is stare in slight awe at the woman who has finally made him believe that SciTech’s actions weren’t _his_ fault. 

The fleeting moment of relief dissipates almost immediately because something switches in Jemma and she completely ignores Fitz’s look of awe as she stands up from the couch to begin angrily pacing across the living room. 

“What _I_ don’t understand. Is why you couldn’t have just _told me_ about your real issues with SciTech. I mean, even all of _that_ wouldn’t have been necessary to inform me of. Simply _asking_ me about my work would have begun a natural conversation on the topic. I would have told you in a _heartbeat_ about what was going on with the GH325 if you had just been _honest_ with me Fitz. Instead all you’ve done since we’ve met is lie.” 

Jemma immediately stops moving at this and turns to him in fury. 

“Which is what the root of our problem actually is Fitz. Because, while I understand your frustrations and even _partially_ understand why you’ve gone to such lengths to do everything you can to hurt SciTech… I _don’t_ understand why you felt the need to sleep with me, steal my work key, break into my lab, and destroy all of _my_ research. Because _all_ of the above could have been avoided if you’d simply told me the truth.” 

She has a point and it’s one that Fitz has hit himself over the head with nearly every minute since getting caught in the SciTech labs. He stutters out the only excuse he has with a wince. 

“I… I signed that NDA…” 

Apparently the excuse is just as flimsy to Jemma as it sounds to him because she scoffs in derision and shakes her head at him. “Well apparently it wasn’t a rigid enough agreement to prevent you from telling me _now…_ ” 

“I had May, the ex-legal employee, go over the contract with me to find a loophole…” 

“And you didn’t think to do that sooner?” Jemma looks at him as though he’s a complete idiot and, hearing the points she’s making, he’s starting to actually feel like one. 

“I…” 

“You didn’t think to maybe find _any_ other way to ruin SciTech? Your _only_ option was to ruin them by ruining me?” 

Jemma’s voice is raising and it cracks halfway through her sentence, which clues Fitz in pretty quickly to the fact that she’s on the verge of breaking. 

“No… I…” He tries to explain but she cuts him off immediately. 

“You had to spend _weeks_ hating me, then liking me. Screaming in my face, then whispering in my ear. _Fucking_ me and then fucking me _over?”_

Fitz’s eyes widen at her words and he quickly stands from the couch to step closer to her, extending his hand in an attempt to reach out for her. “No Jemma that’s not…” 

“I got fired Fitz.” 

Jemma’s tone is cold and clinical and is an audible representation of the void that he’d seen in her eyes earlier. 

Fitz’s arm immediately drops to his side and he stares at her in shock. 

_This can’t be happening._

“You…You… _What_?!” 

Jemma continues on as though he hadn’t spoken. 

“Or, ‘dismissed,’ as you and SciTech like to call it. It’s 2:20 on a Monday Fitz. I should be at work but am instead sitting with the one person who is entirely responsible for my current state of unemployment.” 

Fitz feels his throat closing up as he tries to process her words and figure out how things had gone so wrong. 

“Wha… what…why…” 

“Apparently they’d wanted to _dismiss me_ the second they realized that they wouldn’t be able to use the GH325 research in any capacity other than what I authorized. But the contract I signed _also_ stipulated that I couldn’t be terminated unless there was clear evidence that me or my control over the project would be a detriment to SciTech.” 

“But you… you’re the most reliable person…” 

“Yes well it seems that having your universal-access key stolen during a one night stand, and having it _then_ be used by a disgruntled former employee to break into the restricted labs and destroy millions of dollars worth of research… doesn’t exactly bode well in the eyes of corporate. I _tried_ to tell them that I still had…” 

Jemma pauses for a moment and stares at him for a few seconds before inhaling sharply and shaking her head. 

“It doesn’t matter. They didn’t let me get a word in edge wise and bluntly stated that the incident was grounds for termination. So here we are.” 

Her voice is still hard but there are tears in her eyes as she shrugs her shoulders and gestures around the apartment. Fitz feels as though his body is being gradually compressed by a steamroller. Jemma looks at him with such despair and he feels his throat constrict as his own anguish over the situation begins to bubble forth. 

“Jemma… I’m _so_ sor…” 

“Save it Fitz.” 

Her fingers move to her temples and she closes her eyes with a sigh. He’s not willing to have this conversation end the same way the one in the car had so he keeps trying to get a word in. And a word is all Jemma gives him. 

“But…” 

“Listen, I realize that you’re sorry Fitz, and I believe you. But right now, in this moment, I really don’t want to hear it. I feel like every week there’s something else that I’m expected to forgive you for and I just don’t think I can do it anymore. I’m _exhausted_ Fitz. I’ve been exhausted for weeks and I’m beginning to realize that it’s because of you. You _exhaust_ me.” 

Her words feel like a punch to the stomach and all Fitz can do is take a step back from her. His eyes roam over her face and he sees the truth of her statement. There are bags under her eyes and her face lacks its usual glow. He thinks back to the Jemma Simmons he crashed into on the street months ago and can barely see her in the one standing before him. 

She was right. He _had_ ruined her, destroyed her even, and he wishes that he could go back in time to undo every decision he’s made regarding her and SciTech. 

“Alright… Yeah that’s… I get it.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks at the floor. “I get it.” 

They’re silent for a few long moments before Jemma moves past him towards the door. She opens it and steps back in silent indication that it’s time for Fitz to go. His eyes sting but he nods in resignation and shuffles forward towards the door. He stops just before stepping through it and turns to face Jemma, who is resolutely avoiding his eyes. 

“Hey Jemma? I know… I know you don’t want to hear this, that me saying anything is basically the opposite of what you just asked me to do, but I… I just need to clear something up.” 

She doesn’t make any indication that she’s heard him but she also doesn’t push him out so Fitz decides to continue. 

“I never… I never intended to leave that morning. That was the best night of my life and when I woke up… all I wanted to do was spend more time with you. But then Mack called and told me I’d missed a SHIELD meeting and I found out about the grant and… and I just… panicked. I thought that I was choosing you over something I’d spent years working towards and… I don’t know. I guess I felt like I had to do something drastic to prove to myself that SHIELD and destroying SciTech was still the most important thing in my life.” 

Fitz watches Jemma grow more and more tense with each word and he spots the previously unshed tears begin to slowly drip down her face. He hates that he’s once again making her cry, but he’s spent so much time being selfish and decides that this will be his last selfish act where Jemma is concerned. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t even attempt to clear his throat before stuttering out the last of his speech. 

“But… the truth is Jemma… SciTech and SHIELD _haven’t_ been the most important aspects of my life since I ran you over that first day. My self-doubt over everything is no excuse for doing what I did but… It was never about you. None of this was ever about you. The fact of the matter is, you were collateral damage in my fucked up life and I _know_ it’s my fault but… I just need you to know that being with you wasn’t part of some evil plan. Nothing about you was part of my plan. The truth is… I just… I feel better when you’re around. And I spent so much time trying to push you away but… but all it did was make me want to pull you closer.”

Jemma sniffles at this but her eyes remain fixed on a point over his shoulder. Fitz knows that the action is _beyond_ overstepping his bounds, but he lifts his hand and brushes the tears from her cheeks. She flinches slightly but doesn’t fully recoil as he’d expected her to.

“You said you don’t want to hear my apology… but I’m going to send one your way basically every day until you do. So… Jemma Simmons, this is day one. I’m _sorry.”_

His thumb moves across the apple of her cheek one last time before he leans forward and gently places his lips on her forehead. He knows he’s really pushing his luck now, likely doing more harm than good, so he quickly steps back and gives her a tremulous look before shoving his hands back in his pockets and walking down the hallway.

He makes it about three steps before he hears her sniffle and a full thirty before he finally hears her door shut behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some honesty. It certainly took long enough!
> 
> Hopefully this reveal wasn't too much of a disappointment for anyone haha. I realize that the FitzTech mystery has been a central force behind all of the shiznap that's happened and *hopefully* it puts some of his moronic decisions in a different perspective. (Nobody messes with Skye and gets away with it.)
> 
> Next chap, "The Apology Tour," will be up sometime on Thursday.
> 
> My profuse thanks for reading/commenting/sticking with this thing. We're in the home stretch now!


	26. The Apology Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz begins his apology tour and calls in the reserves to help him make things right with Jemma.

On Tuesday afternoon Fitz anxiously makes his way over to Hartley’s Flowers and pauses outside of the little shop for a few moments before actually finding the courage to walk in. He’s overwhelmed by both the sight and the smell that greets him when he steps inside and his eyes bug out slightly as he takes in the bright colors in the rows and rows of flowers. 

Fitz makes his way through each row, mentally crossing off flowers as he does. He paces down the aisles a dozen times before he hears a voice call out from the back. “You need some help kid?” 

Fitz blinks quickly as he turns around and looks at the gruff woman standing with a pair of clippers in one hand and a small watering can in the other. “Oh… Umm… No thank you.” 

The woman raises an eyebrow at this and moves to place the gardening objects on the stool beside her, freeing her hands so that she can place them on her hips and stare him down. “Really? Because you’ve been pacing and mumbling in here for over twenty minutes.” 

Fitz opens his mouth to respond but stops when the woman, presumably Hartley, levels him with a look that causes his denial to stop in his throat. He sighs and looks at her with pleading eyes, “No, _not_ really. I’m desperate for some help.” 

Hartley nods at this before moving closer to him and letting her gaze roam over him for a few uncomfortable seconds. “From what I can see… You’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle.” She straightens for a moment before leveling him with a knowing look and asking, “Who do you need to apologize to?” 

Fitz blinks in surprise and stutters out, “Wh… what?” 

Hartley gives a small chuckle at this before tilting her head and motioning for Fitz to follow her as she moves down the row and talks over her shoulder. “Your cluelessness leads me to believe that you’re not exactly used to shopping for flowers, and the fact that you’re not vibrating with excitement makes it pretty obvious that you’re not here looking for first-date flowers. I’ve seen the expression on your face about a million times kid, you’re here because you need to apologize for something so my question, again, is whodo you need to apologize _to_?” 

Fitz is silent for a few long moments, ruminating over the fact that this stranger has been able to perfectly guess the reason for his visit, and his quietness spurns the woman on. 

“My guess? You’re here because of a girlfriend or, based on the despondent look on your face, an _ex_ -girlfriend. If you were here for a relative you would have just grabbed the cheapest flowers you could find and be out of here within a few minutes. Instead, you’ve been walking around aimlessly going on half an hour, meaning you want to find the _right_ flowers to apologize with.” 

She pauses in front of the blue and violet flower section and glances at him quizzically. “Am I close?” Fitz just nods his head slowly, mouth agape, and Hartley smiles at his silent response, “Yes I thought so.” She turns to face the row of flowers in front of her and begins to pick some out as Fitz watches her arrange them. “I would recommend a nice mixed bouquet of blue and violet Hyacinth. The aqua-blue represents sincerity while the violet represents the asking of forgiveness. They also have a nice fragrance, which is a plus.”

Fitz’s nodding quickens as he eagerly holds his hands out for the flowers. Hartley gives another wry chuckle and places them gently in his hands so that he can stare inquisitively at them before taking a whiff of them. A small smile crosses his face and he turns to Hartley in appreciation. “Thank you.” 

She nods her head and moves to the small register in the back of the building. Fitz quickly follows and blinks in surprises when the woman says, “Hand me the flowers.” She can clearly see his confusion because she lets out a small smirk and rolls her eyes in what he _thinks_ is feigned exasperation. “I’m going to tie them up and make them look pretty. You can’t just hand a girl loose flowers and expect to be forgiven.” 

Fitz ducks his head bashfully at this as he extends his arm and watches with fascination as Hartley deftly arranges the flowers into an actual bouquet. He pulls out his wallet once she’s finished and eagerly hands her the money as the old register dings. He feels like a bit of a smarmy dick when he says, “Keep the change,” and Hartley must agree because she gives him a look that leaves him squirming in discomfort. 

“For… For the help I mean. I probably would have ended up with roses if you hadn’t stepped in to save me.” He’s entirely sincere with his statement and sighs in relief when Hartley’s look softens and she nods his head at him as she takes the money in his outstretched hand and places it into the register. 

He gives her a tentative smile and picks up the flowers before giving her a small wave and turning to exit the shop. He almost makes it to the door when he hears her call out again. “Hey kid?” Fitz turns to look at Hartley who is staring at him intently as she asks, “Will the flowers fix things?” 

Fitz is silent for a moment before he sighs and shakes his head. “Not even a little bit.”

He leaves the little shop with another small wave and walks a few blocks over to pay a visit to Ms. Weaver. The second he steps into the little chocolate shop, Weaver glances between the expression on his face and the flowers in his hand and says, “Oh Leopold, what have you done.” 

He doesn’t really feel like going into it so he shrugs forlornly and makes his way over to the little glass case that houses all of the best chocolates. “Something that needs to be _undone_ with some flowers and chocolate. I’m halfway there and was hoping you’d help me with the latter bit.” 

Weaver gives him a warning look, “If you’ve done something to hurt Skye…” Fitz cuts her off with a vehement shake of the head before she can finish. 

“No not Skye… A different girl… A girl that I really like and _really_ need to apologize to.” He gives the other woman a pleading look as he begins to bounce on the balls of his feet.

The other woman raises an eyebrow at him before quickly putting on a pair of disposable gloves and plucking various chocolates from the display. She moves to drop them in a little bag before she stops herself and instead selects a nice box. Fitz watches as she gently places each small piece of chocolate into the box and arranges them neatly by color and flavor. Fitz’s mouth waters slightly at the sight and, just as Weaver is about to place the lid on the box, he opens his mouth to speak. “Do… Do you think you could add a few caramels too?” 

The moment the word leaves his mouth Fitz’s mind conjures up an image of caramel eyes that never fail to leave him somewhat stunned. He sighs slightly at the image but gives Weaver a grateful look when she moves her arm slightly and begins plucking some of the treats and placing them in between the chocolates. She turns around and begins tying a bow around the box and when she moves back to him, Fitz feels slightly choked up when he sees the purple and blue ribbons that match the flowers exactly. He gives Weaver an appreciative smile as he hands over the money in exchange for the box, and the smile grows slightly when she sympathetically says, “I hope the chocolates help.” 

He nods in assent and mutters a quick, “Me too,” before he turns to exit the store with a small wave. 

Fitz’s heart begins to hammer in his chest during this last bit of today’s journey and he stands outside of the apartment building for a full five minutes before walking in. He passes the row of mailboxes and begins to ascend the stairs, each step feeling as though it’s bringing him that much closer to his doom. He makes it to the sixth floor and doesn’t give himself time to question his actions, knowing that too much thought will likely cause him to psych himself out, and instead walks down the hallway to 6C in a few long strides. 

He takes one deep breath before knocking on the door and strains his ear for an indication that someone is actually on the other side. He straightens up when he hears footsteps and then deflates almost immediately as he sees something briefly block the light of the peephole. 

He smiles tentatively at the small circle and holds up the flowers and chocolates and then sighs in disappointment when whatever is blocking the light moves and he hears footsteps walking away from the door. He dejectedly lays the flowers and chocolates against the door before shuffling back down the hallway and out the building. 

When Skye returns from her shift and sees him lying in a ball on the couch she winces slightly and says, “How did it go?” 

Fitz groans at the question and sits up to grab their scheming notebook and viciously crosses off _Phase 1._

“It didn’t.” 

-O- 

On Wednesday morning Fitz wakes up early and meets Skye at the front door of their apartment. She has a bag slung over her shoulder and looks at him as though she’s trying to figure out how close he is to throwing up. 

_Answer: Very close._

Skye pats him on the back when Fitz gets within reaching distance and he shoots her a smile of appreciation as he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath as he reaches for the doorknob. He pauses when his hand closes around the knob and he shoots Skye a nervous looks. 

She nods encouragingly and squeezes his shoulder. “Phase Two, Fitz. Let’s do it.” 

He gives her a small smile before wrenching the door open and stepping out into the hall with Skye hot on his tail. 

They spend the walk to TeaTime with Fitz anxiously asking Skye if she’s _sure_ this is a good idea and her exasperatedly replying that she wouldn’t be tagging along if she thought it was a _bad_ one. Halfway through the journey she exaggeratedly puts her headphones on, staring at him as she does, and Fitz takes the hint and remains silent for the rest of the walk. 

He’s still panicking internally but he manages to stop himself from pestering Skye until they reach the little teashop. It’s still closed but Fitz sees slight movement through the door and tentatively knocks against the glass. He glances over at Skye who’s giving him a supportive smile and the sight suddenly makes Fitz remembers the earlier deal he’d made with Marta. 

“Umm… could you take a few steps to the left? So you’re not visible from the door?” 

Skye looks at him in confusion but does as he asks before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes. “Am I going to find out what _that_ was about?” 

Fitz can see Marta puttering towards the door and he sighs as he answers Skye’s question. “Probably sooner rather than later.” 

The older woman actually looks pleased to see him, which clues Fitz in pretty quickly to the fact that Jemma hadn’t stopped by since… the incident. This makes something twist uncomfortably in his chest because it means that he’ll likely have to start his story from the beginning, _again,_ and explain to Marta why he’s in desperate need of her help. 

Marta opens the door with a large smile and quickly envelopes Fitz into a warm hug. “Mishka! I missed you on Friday! I’m so happy to see y… oh. Hello Skye.” 

The older woman pulls away from Fitz and looks towards the girl who is awkwardly standing against the wall and giving a small wave. Marta’s smile becomes a little strange and Skye shoots Fitz a _what the hell_ look. Two seconds later Marta gives him the same look and he shrugs at her while whispering, “ _That’s_ for the other week when you told Jemma about the table.” 

Marta’s eyes narrow for a brief moment before she nods her head in acquiescence and motions for him and Skye to follow her into the shop. Once she turns her back, Skye quickly moves forward and pinches him in the side with a glare. “What the hell was _that_ about?” 

This draws a genuine, albeit _small_ , smile to his face and Fitz quickly steps through the door so he doesn’t get punched as he says, “I promised Marta I’d stop bringing you here. Apparently she doesn’t love it when you switch TeaTime’s wifi login to _Tea-Bagging-Time.”_

He can hear Skye scoff indignantly behind him and chuckles slightly when he hears her mutter, “That was hilarious and everyone _other_ than Marta agreed.” 

Fitz slows his pace slightly so that Skye is beside him and he looks down at her with a small grin. “It _was_ hilarious. And I’m sorry for using you as a bargaining tool against Marta…” Skye glares at him at this so Fitz hastily continues before she decides to pinch him again. “…but in my defense said agreement took place the _last_ time I needed her help apologizing to Jemma.” 

Skye’s eyes narrow for a moment before rolling as she shrugs. “Whatever. I don’t exactly love this place, which is just another reason why we need to get Jemma back. She can do weird British stuff with you and give me a break from having to pretend to like _tea.”_

She shivers slightly as she makes a gagging noise but quickly plasters on a smile when Marta turns around sharply and gives her a look. 

Fitz whispers, “Be civil,” from the side of his mouth and Skye loops her arm through his as she responds with, “Always,” through her fake grin. 

He pats her in thanks before leading her to the table that Marta has sat down at. Apparently the older woman could sense that his early morning visit requires a seat. She’d always been fairly good at reading him, coming in a close second to Skye until recently. Now she’d probably come in third behind Skye and Jemma. He winces slightly at the thought and sits down heavily across from Marta and next to Skye. Both women notice his facial twitch and Skye looks at him sympathetically as Marta gives him a worried look. 

He opens his mouth a few times to speak before he feels Skye’s hand on his shoulder. Skye turns to face Marta with a look completely devoid of her usual sarcasm. “Marta, I realize we haven’t always seen eye to eye…” Marta raises an eyebrow at this and huffs slightly under her breath. “… _but_ we, that is, Fitz and I… _mostly_ Fitz… really need your help.” 

Marta looks between them with raised eyebrows before leaning across the table, placing her hand on Fitz’s arm, and saying, “Start from the beginning Mishka.” 

So for what feels like the hundredth time, Fitz recounts everything from start to finish. He leaves out some of the specifics and focuses on what he feels are the key points that will make Marta understand just how badly he’d screwed up. A few minutes in Skye pipes up when she notices Fitz getting emotional, and the story becomes a tag-team effort from then on out. The older woman looks at him in disappointment when he quickly mentions his betrayal of Jemma and gasps when he gets to the part about his brief incarceration. By the time he and Skye reach the end, Marta is leaning back in her chair with wide eyes. 

It’s silent for a few moments before the older woman turns to him with a doubtful look. “I’m not sure pastries will fix things this time Mishka.” Fitz nods dejectedly but Skye turns to Marta with a hopeful look. 

“No… they probably won’t. But they’ll at least be a good start.” 

Marta turns to the other woman and looks at her for a few long moments before she smiles and straightens up in her seat. “They certainly will be a good _start._ ” She raises an eyebrow at Skye before continuing with, “And what exactly does the rest of your plan entail.” 

Skye gives the other woman an innocent look that Fitz, and likely Marta, can see through completely. “What makes you think there’s a plan?” 

Marta just tilts her head and Skye’s expression transforms instantly as a mischievous grin makes its way across her face. She leans forward excitedly she says, “Okay, so here’s the plan…” 

Marta eagerly listens with rapt attention, nodding along to Skye’s words and even pitching a few ideas of her own. Skye’s eyes bug out at one suggestion in particular and she quickly stands up from the table to sit in the seat beside the other woman as she enthusiastically says, “Keep going!” 

Fitz watches in slight astonishment as the women chat excitedly and get progressively more animated. The talk for quite some time until the bell above the door tinkles and all three people quickly turn towards the sound. Billy Koenig is standing beneath the door with a look of surprise as he’s stared down by the three people sitting at the corner table. After a few moments of silence, Marta stands up and yells, “Not _now_ Billy! Go away,” across the room. 

The man blinks in surprise at her words before slumping slightly and turning around to exit the shop. Fitz notices the way Skye’s eyes widen momentarily and looks at her curiously as she stands and yells, “Wait!” 

Billy pauses at the door and looks back at her in surprise. The look of surprise quickly shifts into one of discomfort as Skye eyes him speculatively before a sly grin breaks out across her face. “Koenig right?” Billy nods at Skye’s question, which causes her smile to grow. “You’re the guy that just sits in here all day doing nothing?” Koenig nods again, at least having the decency to look somewhat bashful, and Skye claps her hands in delight at the sight. She moves across the room and stops before the other man as she says, “How would you like to actually _do_ something this week?” 

Both Fitz and Marta share a look at this but Skye holds her ground as Koenig stares at her curiously for a few moments. He finally just shrugs his shoulders and Skye grabs his hand to tug him over to the table. “Marta, meet your new delivery boy.” 

Billy blinks owlishly at this, stuttering out a, “Wait…” before Skye cuts him off and directs her gaze to Marta. “Phase Two of the plan is already in motion. Jemma will be receiving TeaTime pastries, scones, tea, etcetera for the rest of the week… and our good friend Billy will be delivering them directly to her apartment.” 

Everyone turns to Skye in shock at this and Fitz begins to shake his head as he speaks, “Skye I really don’t think that’s a good id…” 

She cuts him off with an indignant expression before he can finish. “You’re right, it’s not a good idea, it’s a _great_ one. Jemma might actually open the door for _Billy_.” 

Fitz pauses at this and Skye uses his brief moment of hesitation to continue speaking. “Listen, it’s perfect. Marta will provide you with a slew of pastries and beverages, you’ll foot the bill, and _Billy_ will make sure that Jemma actually gets them.” 

Fitz shoots her a dubious look and Skye just rolls her eyes in exasperation. “C’mon Fitz, you know that Jemma will either A. Slam the door in your face or B. Not answer the door at all if _you’re_ the one on the other side.” 

Marta, the complete traitor, is nodding along to Skye’s words and Fitz slumps down in his seat as he silently admits defeat. The women grin and even Koenig looks moderately pleased by the responsibility he’s being given. 

Fitz spends the rest of the morning helping Marta in the shop and, when lunch time comes around, he watches her like a hawk as she arranges three boxes: one with pastries, one with a variety of jams, and one with a heaping pile of scones. She ties each one up with a pink string and he anxiously bounces on his feet as she hands them off to Koenig. Fitz gives the other man the address before hastily writing _From Fitz_ on the bottom box so that it’s hidden from Jemma’s view. 

Koenig gives him a determined salute before exiting the shop and Fitz quickly moves into the kitchen to fix the dishwasher as a means of distracting himself. He’s anxiously replacing a washer when he hears Marta yell, “Billy,” and he hastily stands up and bolts for the other room to grill the other man with questions. 

“Did it work? Did she take them? What did she say?” Fitz doesn’t even pause for a breath between questions and Koenig takes a step back at his aggressiveness. 

The shorter man quickly looks between Fitz and Marta, both staring at him questioningly, before tentatively speaking. “I’m not sure if it worked, she _did_ take them, and she said ‘Thank You.’” 

Fitz widens his eyes at the other man, “That’s _it_? She didn’t say anything else?” 

Billy blinks for a moment before turning his head thoughtfully in contemplation. “Well, I knocked on her door and she answered. I told her I had a delivery for her from TeaTime and she asked if it was from Marta… I said yes because _technically_ the food _is_ from Marta. She gave me a rather frightening look but then took the boxes and said thank you. Then she closed the door and I left. I assume she saw who they were _really_ from once she got inside and unstacked them.” 

Fitz blinks at this and Marta nods her head thoughtfully. “Koenig, you will be here to make a deliver every day at 12:30…” 

“No!” Fitz cuts Marta off and glances between her and Koenig, “Don’t do it at the same time… After today she’ll know it’s me sending them. Try and scatter the deliveries and… Actually, scratch that.” He turns to face Marta inquisitively, “Do you think you could have a box ready every morning _and_ afternoon.” 

Marta gives him a small smile and moves forward to pinch his cheeks. “Of course Mishka.” Fitz quirks his lips at this and nods gratefully before turning back to Koenig. “Okay Billy, you deliver whatever Marta gives you _whenever_ she gives it to you.” Billy nods in determination at this and Fitz gives the other man a smile and an appreciative clap on the back. “Well okay then. Phase Two is well underway.” 

He texts Skye to give her an update and moves to the back room to finish fixing the washer as he begins thinking about Phase Three. 

-O- 

On Thursday Fitz leaves his apartment just before noon and heads towards Lola’s Diner. When he walks through the door, Coulson looks up from where he’s washing the counter and smiles when he sees that it’s Fitz who’s just entered. 

“Fitz! I’m not used to seeing you this early in the day.” Coulson straightens up, nodding towards one of the stools at the counter, and Fitz doesn’t hesitate to plop himself down. 

Coulson looks at him in concern for a few moments before moving around the counter and taking a seat next to Fitz. “Want to talk about it?” 

Fitz shakes his head glumly, “I’d actually like to go one day _not_ talking about it, if that’s okay with you.” 

Coulson nods thoughtfully at this and is silent for a few moments before he shifts slightly, “Does it have anything to do with the other night? When you and Skye were here, both near tears I might add, talking with that mysterious woman?” 

Fitz glances over at Coulson and the moment he sees the knowing look that the other man is sending him, he nods his head with a sigh. “Yeah it does.” 

Coulson nods his head at the response and taps his fingers against the counter before rotating his stool slightly and facing Fitz head-on. “It seemed pretty serious, and I won’t ask about it since you don’t want to talk about it, but I will ask… Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Fitz takes a deep breath and moves his own stool slightly as he remembers why he’d come to Coulson in the first place. “Actually yes… I was… Well I was wondering if you had any prosciutto lying around…” 

Coulson blinks at him in surprise and Fitz’s words taper off at the look. Coulson is silent for a few seconds and then raises an eyebrow as he slowly questions what Fitz is implying. “You want me to make you a sandwich?” 

Fitz smiles at the older man and shakes his head as a blush makes its way across his face. He moves his gaze to the countertop and begins folding the paper napkin into an airplane as he speaks quietly. “I was actually hoping you might help _me_ make a sandwich… for someone else…” 

He feels his ears heat up just as easily as he feels Coulson’s stare. Fitz lifts his head slightly to give the older man a pleading look and feels the tension drain slightly as he takes note of Coulson’s small smile and nodding head. The other man stands from the stool and makes his way back around to the other side of the counter, beckoning for Fitz to follow, as he speaks jovially. “Sure Fitz, come on back. What all do you need?” 

Fitz hastily moves to follow Coulson and nervously drums his fingers against the counter as he lists off the ingredients. “Umm… Prosciutto… Buffalo mozzarella and… pesto aioli?” 

Coulson nods thoughtfully at this and holds up a finger to Fitz before disappearing behind the swinging door leading to the kitchen. He emerges less than a minute later, arms laden with the various ingredients, and places them gently in front of Fitz before grabbing a baguette and a large knife. They work in tandem, Coulson slicing the bread and other ingredients before handing them off to Fitz to arrange neatly on the pieces of bread. 

Fitz beams down proudly at the completed product, two sandwiches that look _almost_ good as the ones that Jemma had made. He gives Coulson a grin that widens when the other man pats him on the back. The grin falters slightly when Coulson’s expression sobers and he looks at Fitz with furrowed brows. 

“Serious question Fitz…” Fitz feels his hear begin to thump erratically at the words because Coulson had essentially _promised_ that he wouldn’t ask about what was going on with him. “…you want fries with that?”

 Coulson’s mouth shifts back into his easy grin and Fitz lowers his tensed shoulders as he processes the other man’s words. He contemplates the question before smiling and nodding at Coulson, who immediately proceeds to head back into the kitchen. He’s gone a bit longer this time and Fitz scoots back around the counter to plop himself on a stool in Coulson’s absence. When the other man returns, he’s carrying two take-out containers that each have a generous portion of the fries. Fitz gingerly lifts the sandwiches, placing one in each of the Styrofoam boxes, and gives Coulson a grateful smile. 

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet but Coulson quickly waves him off. “But…”

Coulson just shakes his head and pushes the two containers towards him as he says, “Consider this a payment for fixing the oven.” Fitz gives Coulson a questioning look at this. 

“But I _haven’t_ fixed the… oh. I get it.” 

Fitz grins as he puts two and two together and Coulson gives him a wink as he amends his statement, “Consider it ­ _pre-payment_.” 

Fitz gives an almost tremulous smile at the other man. “Thanks Coulson.” 

Coulson responds with a wink and a, “Go get her Fitz.” 

Fitz contemplates how Coulson knows that his odd request for the sandwich means he needs to _get_ someone but decides better than to ask him. The other man is observant and makes it a point to read people. Coulson probably knew the second Fitz stepped through the door what was going on. He gives the other man another appreciative smile before picking up the boxes and heading for the door. Fitz pauses before leaving and calls out, “I’ll stop by sometime next week to take care of the oven,” over his shoulder as he steps outside. 

He waits outside the diner for a few moments, nervously glancing at his watch, until he sees Skye barreling down the street in his direction. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! One of the other tech guys took a longer lunch break and _didn’t tell me_ so I got stuck doing his backorders. I’m here now though! Do you have the food?” 

Fitz extends his arms and hands off the two takeout boxes to Skye who grabs them eagerly before glancing at her watch in alarm. “Okay I have to book it if I’m going to make lunch with Jemma.” Fitz nods at her and motions for her to get going and he smiles softly as she leans forward to peck his cheek before turning around and running back in the direction she’d just come from.

He heads back the apartment and putters around for the rest of the afternoon as he anxiously waits for Skye to return. At 4:30 she walks in and he wordlessly hands her a beer from where he’s sitting on the couch as she plops down next to him. She props her feet on his legs as she leans back against the opposite armrest and stares at the ceiling. Fitz tries to be patient, he really does, but he only makes it two minutes before he can’t stop himself from breaking the silence. “So…?” 

Skye releases a sigh as she props herself up and stares at him. “So Jemma ate all of the French fries.” 

Fitz groans at this and leans back against the couch. “But not the sandwich?” 

Skye’s eyes widen and she shakes her head at him. “ _Definitely_ not the sandwich. 

Fitz leans forward and places his elbows on Skye’s shins atop his knees as he rubs his hands over his face. “Did she say anything?” 

“Not really, no. I tried to be subtle about it, you know just talking rapidly about the dumbasses I work with as I opened the boxes but…” 

“But what?” Fitz shuts an eye and scrunches his face as he faces Skye and notes her exasperated expression. 

“But she obviously _knew_ that only one person would make a sandwich that random and have me bring it to her for lunch.” 

Fitz sighs at this and nods his head. Skye’s completely right, a prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich with pesto aioli isn’t exactly something _Skye_ would think to order. It likely took half a second for Jemma to realize that the lunch had come from him. Fitz rubs his face again before shooting Skye a worried look. “Was she mad at you?” 

Skye just waves her hand dismissively and shakes her head as she leans back against the couch. “Nah, I don’t think so. She just gave me a look, you know _the look_ , and then kind of just passive aggressively ate the French fries. Other than that… We actually had a lovely time. Just girl talk and all that. I didn’t bring you up, she didn’t bring you up, and when I left to head back to work she hugged me and told me she’d talk to me later so… It was pretty solid for me actually. Probably could have ended better for you though.” 

She shoots him a sympathetic look at this and he pats her shin in appreciation. He’s silent for a few moments as he focuses on the notebook laying on the coffee table and mentally crosses off _Phase Three._ So far each day had been a bigger bust than the last and Fitz has no idea what he can do to get Jemma to talk to him. The hopelessness that he’s been trying to subdue for the past week comes raring back at him and he slumps down into the couch at the thought that he might not ever convince Jemma to forgive him. 

He sighs again and Skye scooches over to wrap her arms around his middle. “It’s okay Fitz, tomorrow we’ll try again.” 

He’s about to nod in agreement before a dawning realization comes over him and he suddenly feels an icy chill make its way through his body. His voice is a bit raspy when he responds and doesn’t do anything to hide his sudden terror. “No we actually _can’t_ try again tomorrow.” 

Skye moves back at this and looks at him quizzically as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He clicks on the calendar icon and selects tomorrow’s date, which has one red appointment written in bold. He turns the phone to face Skye and watches as her eyes widen in realization and her face becomes anxious. “Right.”

Fitz frowns at her uneasiness and nods solemnly at his friend as he glances back down at the little red letters written in tomorrow’s schedule. 

**_Noon. Courthouse._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap, "Fitz's Day in Court," is the next chapter, up on Saturday! Who knows what'll happen with that...
> 
> Thanks as always for reading/commenting! I really appreciate it and thoroughly enjoy reading everyone's thoughts/predictions. It's quite fun!!!


	27. Fitz's Day In Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the final showdown between Fitz and SciTech as old enemies and current allies face-off in a legal battle, with all eyes are on Fitz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to preface this chapter by saying that this is CLEARLY a fanfiction portrayal of a trial. Let's be real, NONE of this is something that would likely happen IRL but... c'mon. I told you I'm one for happy endings, so we couldn't exactly have this be COMPLETELY accurate in terms of what would actually happen.

Fitz nervously adjusts his tie in the mirror before Skye comes up from behind and swats his hand away. Trip is leaning in the doorframe and Fitz shoots the other man an appreciative, albeit _incredibly_ nervous, smile. Skye straightens his tie before stepping back to take him in. She nods her head at his appearance and gives him an anxious smile. He realizes that she’s only trying to help, but Skye’s nerves are only serving to enhance his own feelings of stress. 

He rolls his shoulders a few times and Skye reaches down to grab his hand in comfort. They walk towards the door, Skye using her other hand to entwine with Trip’s, and the three begin their awkward descent to the bottom of the apartment building. Trip took the day off to lend moral support and drive them to court and Fitz thanks him profusely throughout the car ride. He also thanks Skye, who opted to sit beside him instead of taking shotgun, and squeezes her hand every time he feels nervous, which is every second of the ten-minute car ride. 

Trip drops them off in front of the courthouse, telling them he’ll meet them inside after he goes to park, and Fitz and Skye move together towards the innocuous, yet completely ominous, building. They walk about twenty feet when he hears his name and turns around to be greeted by the sight of Hunter and all of his SHIELD friends. He glances at Skye in shock and she shrugs at him in response. 

“I may have put the word out that you were in need of some support.” 

He smiles softly at her and tries not to start crying. He’s such a ball of stress and anxiety that he knows if he starts crying, he’ll likely be a blubbering mess for the rest of the day. “Thanks Skye.” 

“Don’t thank me, all I did was mass text a time and address. They showed up because they love you Fitz, not because I pestered them.” She smiles at him and they wait for every one else to catch up with them.

When they do, every body hugs Fitz and gives him warm words of encouragement. He smiles nervously in thanks and tells them all how grateful he is for their presence. This makes Hunter lament the fact that things are, “getting too bloody emotional,” so the group proceeds to walk into the building and head in the direction of the designated courtroom in the quest for seats. 

Fitz and Skye lag behind with her arm looped around his. He sees the look on her face and knows what it means so he walks quietly and waits for her to speak because, eventually, she always does. Today is no different. 

“I… I told Jemma too. Called her last night after you went to bed. I know you didn’t want her to know but I figured she kind of deserved to. This whole thing affected her just as much as it did you, if not more so, and I just… I don’t know I thought she’d want to know that you might very well be marching to your doom. She sounded worried, and wished you luck but… I’d be surprised if she shows up today. Sorry Fitz.” 

Fitz would be lying if he said that Skye’s words didn’t essentially crush the small amount of hope he’d had in regards to Jemma. He sighs in disappointment but isn’t the least bit surprised that Jemma wouldn’t want to show her face in a place filled with the people who had ruined both her personal and professional life. 

“Don’t be. You’re the best friend a guy could ask for Skye. I know I’ve put you through hell over the course of our friendship but… I really do love you, you know that right?” 

“Yeah Fitz, I know.” She smiles softly at him and squeezes his hand again. “The feeling’s mutual.” 

They finally make it into the courtroom and Fitz is relieved to see that nobody from SciTech has shown up yet. The group has a few blissful moments to avoid having to look at the condescending faces of the opposing side but the bliss instantly turns to dread and anger when the courtroom doors open.

Fitz feels his face grow red when he sees which SciTech lawyer walks through the doors behind Pierce, Garrett, and Sitwell. He cautions a glance at Skye whose own face has gone pale and he squeezes her hand while he jerks his head at Trip to indicate that the other man should come over pronto. Trip follows Skye’s gaze and nods at Fitz in understanding, quickly moving across the room towards his girlfriend. 

Trip loops an arm around Skye’s shoulders just as Ward walks up to them and grins smugly at the small group. “Hey Fitz, Skye. Long time no see.”

Skye mumbles, “Not long enough,” under her breath and Fitz can’t stop the laugh that bubbles forth. Ward has served as an unnamed demon for so long that Fitz had forgotten how Skye actually acts when the other man is around. 

Ward tilts his head patronizingly at her and tsks in mock disappointment. “Oh don’t be like that Skye. We had a good thing going for awhile, there’s no reason we can’t behave like adults and be civil with one another.” 

Skye’s mouth drops open at this and she rips herself from Trip’s grasp to step dangerously close to Ward. 

“A good thing? A _good thing?_ You cheated on me with Raina, that bitch of a paralegal you _swore_ was just a co-worker, and then proceeded to conspire with your scumbag bosses at SciTech to get my _best friend_ fired and essentially blacklisted from the engineering field. Civil is the last thing I plan on being with you.” 

She steps back and loops her arm around Trip’s waist before tugging him down for a quick kiss. The display causes both Fitz _and_ Trip to begin sniggering and Ward’s smarmy smile is quickly been replaced by an angry scowl. His eyes narrow as he turns to menacingly face Fitz. 

“Keep laughing Fitz. The last time I saw you I made you unemployable. This time I plan on putting you behind bars.” 

With that Ward turns and walks away leaving Fitz completely panicked. Nobody is laughing anymore and Fitz glances towards Skye in terror as it sinks in how potentially disastrous this day could go. She looks just as worried and even Trip seems to be sobered by the thought of what could happen. 

They stand in silence together, nobody knowing quite what to say, until Fitz spots the lawyer he’d been designated. Skye follows his gaze and when it becomes clear that the hearing is about to begin she moves forward and flings her arms around Fitz. They squeeze each other tightly for a few moments before Trip joins in and makes it a group hug. When they separate Skye wishes him good luck and points to where the SHIELD members are sitting and saving seats. He nods his head at her before turning around and shakily making his way towards the Defendant side of the courtroom and taking a seat to his lawyer. 

He fidgets in his seat for a few minutes, twiddling his thumbs, before he hears, “All rise,” resound throughout the room and hastily stands to his feet. The judge enters and he swallows his nerves and sits down when he sees every one else do it. Judge Hand flips through some documents before removing her glasses and leaning forward to peer speculatively at him. 

She wastes no time getting to the point and after about five seconds of staring at him, she leans back in her chair and begins to speak. “Mr. Fitz, I see here that you’re being charged with breaking and entering as well as destruction of property. How do you plead?” 

He opens his mouth to choke out his one word reply but suddenly the doors open behind him and he turns to see Melinda May walking towards him. She pauses to whisper something to the bailiff who, in turn, makes his way to the judge and repeats whatever it is May had said. Judge Hand glances at May and nods her head, “Yes, I’ll allow it.” 

May proceeds to open the barrier and steps behind the Defendant’s desk, turning to the court-appointed lawyer with a cold gaze. 

“Beat it.” 

The man looks as though he’s about to argue but May is truly the most intimidating person on the planet and he ends up just shaking his head and walking away from a bewildered Fitz. May opens the briefcase she’d brought along as Fitz looks at her in shock. 

“May,” he hisses, “What the bloody hell is going on?” 

She doesn’t move her gaze from the papers in her hand but hisses right back to him. “What’s ‘going on’ _Fitz,_ is I’m saving your ass.”

Judge Hand waits patiently for May to get settled before speaking again. “I’ll repeat myself since there’s been a change in the defendant’s representation. Mr. Fitz, you’re being charged with breaking and entering as well as destruction of property. How do you plead?”

“The defendant pleads not guilty your honor.” 

Ward scoffs at this and arrogantly turns to face May. “Oh you’ve _got_ to be kidding me. There’s footage of him at SciTech, we have written testimony from the security guard that found him, _and_ we have confirmation from the police officers that picked him up. How are you _possibly_ pleading not guilty?” 

May doesn’t even look at him, instead choosing to keep her eyes focused on Judge Hand as she responds to Ward’s question. “We’re pleading not guilty to the first charge, which is _breaking and entering._ Your honor, _technically_ Mr. Fitz wasn’t breaking and entering. He had a key to the premises.” 

“Is this true Mr. Fitz?” Hand is now looking at him and he’s completely flustered. 

He manages to stutter out a rather pathetic, “Umm…yes your honor,” that he can almost _hear_ May internally groaning at. 

“And where exactly did you get this key.” Hand’s eyes are directed towards him but it’s actually Ward who answers. 

“He _appropriated_ it from Jemma Simmons your honor.” 

At this the judge raises her eyebrows before rifling through some of the papers on her bench. “Ah yes… Doctor Jemma Simmons. Miss Simmons is listed as being part of the prosecution that is bringing Mr. Fitz to court is she not?” 

“Actually your honor, no. She’s not, which brings us to the matter of the _second_ charge.” May holds up a piece of paper and her voice rises in volume. “I have here, a written document signed by Doctor Simmons that states that she will not be pressing charges against my client.” 

“While I’m happy to see that his petty theft is being disregarded by his presumed girlfriend… I don’t see how this document is relevant to SciTech’s case against your client.” Hand’s comment doesn’t seem to phase May in the slightest because she merely straightens up as she opens her mouth to answer. 

“It’s relevant your honor because the property that Mr. Fitz _allegedly_ destroyed while in SciTech the night of the _alleged_ break-in… legally belongs to Jemma Simmons.” 

Fitz’s mouth drops open at this as he processes May’s words and then flashes back to Jemma’s own reveal from last weekend. He almost collapses as he realizes what exactly this could mean for him. 

“That’s not true your honor, seeing as Miss Simmons is no longer an employee of SciTech, she doesn’t have the right to determine whether or not Mr. Fitz is to be charged for the damaged property.”

May’s eyes are focused on Ward and she smirks when he finishes his claim. She turns to face Judge Hand and effortlessly shifts the smirk into a respectful smile. 

“Actually… It means just that. The employment contract signed by _Doctor_ Simmons and SciTech stipulates that _all_ work and research conducted by her at the company _during_ her time as an employee belongs exclusively to her. And, since the property listed as being damaged by the prosecution is in fact Doctor Simmons’ research, only _she_ has the right and the ability to press charges against its alleged destroyer.” 

May shoots Ward a look before turning towards Fitz. His mouth is on the floor at this point and she gives him a quick wink as she hands the bailiff the documents she’d brought with her. 

“As I mentioned previously, Jemma Simmons _won’t_ be doing such a thing, and has opted to _not_ press charges against one Leopold Fitz. This of course means that SciTech’s only grounds for prosecution involve the again, _alleged,_ breaking and entering that Mr. Fitz accomplished by simply using a key that was in his possession and walking through the door.” 

The courtroom is silent as Hand flips through the documents, Jemma’s SciTech contract and written letter, that May brought with her. After a minute or two the judge places the papers with the others that are resting on the bench and leans forward. 

“It seems as though half of the charges against you have been dropped Mr. Fitz. Now the only matter we have to discuss is that of the _alleged…”_ Hand glances between Ward and May, “breaking and entering.” 

“Hang on just one minute, Jemma Simmons received over eleven million dollars of government and private funding, which the Leopold Fitzdestroyed and needs to be held accountable for!” 

Ward’s face is reddening now and Fitz can see the SciTech head-honchos angrily nodding their heads in unison from where they’re sitting at the back of the courtroom. 

May on the other hand remains entirely impassive. Ward’s attempt at hammering the nail into Fitz’s proverbial coffin doesn’t phase her in the slightest, and she doesn’t so much as bat an eye when she turns back to Hand with her rebuttal. 

“That grant went through barely than a week before the incident at SciTech occurred. Unless Doctor Simmons spent _eleven million dollars_ in roughly eight days… SciTech suffered _zero_ losses where that research funding is concerned since no _additional_ research occurred. The money was allocated into Doctor Simmons’ division and, since it was focused on _future_ research of the GH325 drug, whatever was destroyed has no impact on the provisions concerning the grant and the private funding. And as mentioned, more than once at this point, the property that _was_ destroyed, as well as the monetary losses, were both stipulated as belonging to Jemma Simmons, _not_ SciTech.”

May closes her briefcase at this and turns to face Ward, who is desperately shuffling the papers on the table in front of him in a manner that has Fitz crossing his fingers at his side. May turns back towards Hand when it becomes clear that Ward has no further claims, and pointedly stares at the judge. “So yes, your honor, you are correct in stating that the only matter left to discuss is the _alleged_ breaking and entering of my client.” 

Hand’s eyebrow seems to raise for a moment at May’s rather blunt statement, but Fitz _swears_ he sees her lips raise as well. It’s silent for a few moments before Hand leans forward and her gaze flits between Ward, May, and a practically vibrating Fitz. 

“I’ve already seen all of the evidence that was brought forth by the prosecutors regarding the B&E… but I’m intrigued to learn that Mr. Fitz actually entered the building through the use of an official key. While it’s a questionable defense to say the least…” 

The judge turns to face him and Fitz feels the breath leave his lungs as the woman’s gaze meets his own. He stands taller in an attempt to make it less obvious that he feels as though he’s about to pass out and gulps as Judge Hand’s eyes narrow at him. The woman leans forward in her seat and places her hands in front of her. She gives him another calculating look before opening her mouth to speak. 

“Mr. Fitz, you clearly understand the seriousness of your actions and I commend your willingness to take responsibility for them. Based on the somewhat ambiguous nature of the breaking and entering aspect of the crime, and seeing as this was a first time offense with only _one_ of the affected parties choosing to press charges… I’m going to be lenient with you. You’re hereby sentenced to 300 hours of community service or volunteer work, to be completed within 10 months of today’s date.” 

She slams the gavel down but Fitz can’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears and the whoops and hollers of Skye, Trip, and his SHIELD friends from where they’re seated behind him. He falls back into his chair with an open mouth and he doesn’t snap out of his state of shock until he feels May squeeze his shoulder gently. He looks up at the woman who has come to bat for him so many times and leaps up to throw his arms around her. 

“ _Thank you_.” 

For a second he feels her squeeze him just as tightly but then she steps back and smiles at him. “Always, Fitz.”

He gives her a watery one in return before he sees a flash of pink and finds his arms suddenly full of Skye. The wind is nearly knocked out of him on impact but he decides to just go with it and spins Skye around in laughter. When the dizziness _and_ lack of air becomes too much, he places his friend back on the ground before doing a double take and noting the tears in her eyes. 

She’s laughing with him but her, “I was so worried,” comes out as a bit of a blubber. Trip is standing a few feet behind her emphatically nodding his head and pointing to Skye as he contorts his face into a comical version of sobbing. Fitz grins at this, which spurns the other man to step forward and give him a hug, not quite as bone crushing as Skye’s, but still tight enough that Fitz takes a gulp of air upon being released. 

Skye is grinning and running her fingers under her eyes to prevent any tears from ruining her makeup. She glances left, spots May, and the tears in her eyes well up again. Skye moves quickly and throws her arms around the older woman, whispering something in her ear that Fitz can’t make out but leaves May smiling warmly and nodding, dare he say _affectionately,_ at the other girl. 

Skye pulls back and just beams at May before her eyes light up and she asks the question that Fitz himself had been wondering. 

“That schtick with Jemma was _amazing!_ How the hell did you manage that?!” 

May smiles sagely, eyes flickering to Fitz’s curious gaze before turning back to answer Skye. “I was thinking about Fitz’s predicament, running through his old SciTech contracts to see if there was anything in them that might help…” 

“And then you remembered the part of Fitz’s story where Jemma was a superior version of him and totally owned SciTech’s new legal team? So you decided to call her for help?” 

Skye finishes the sentence with a look of awe but May just shakes her head and turns to Fitz with a small smile when she answers. 

“No... She called me.” 

Fitz’s mouth drops open in surprise and Skye’s own look of shock mirrors his. The other girl’s eyes move quickly between him and May before settling on the latter in complete bewilderment. 

“What?!” 

May nods her head slowly and her smile is unwavering. “Apparently sheremembered the part of the story Fitz had told _her_ about ‘Melinda May’ former member of the SciTech legal team. She found my number, told me she thought she might be able to help, and asked me to meet her earlier this morning at a lovely little tea shop a few blocks away from that diner with the ogling waiter that _you_ forced me to go to.” 

Skye’s hands are covering her mouth and she looks as though she might start crying again. 

“Anyways, I met her there and she already had that document printed and signed. She explained to me in far more detail than Fitz had about her contract with SciTech, even giving me her copy to peruse, and then asked me if there was any way I might be able to use that to his advantage. I told her I would do just that and then rushed over here.” 

May gives a small shrug of her shoulders before her face becomes thoughtful. “Jemma Simmons really is a remarkable woman. Fitz would have gotten _at least_ a few months for sure if she hadn’t come through.” 

Fitz falls into the nearest chair feeling more stunned now than he had when Hand had given her verdict. He doesn’t know what to say or do and focuses on breathing steadily despite how much he wants to start gasping for air. Skye collapses in the seat next to him, face morphing rapidly between shock and elation, and she reaches into her bag to pull something out of it. 

In the next second Skye’s phone is already out and pressed to her ear before Fitz can even process the action. 

“Jemma?” 

Skye’s voice is watery and Fitz almost tells her that happy tears and sad tears both just sound like tears over the phone so she _might_ want to stop crying before giving the wrong impression. He ends up not needing to say it though because Skye starts laughing in delight as she continues. 

“Oh my god you absolute angel! Actually, screw that. You’re a goddam rock star! You’re all of the Beatles rolled into one beautiful British package and I can’t even _begin_ to describe how insanely awesome you are…” 

She pauses for a moment as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line and throws her head back in laughter. “Did it work? Did it _work?_ Hell yes it worked! You fucking _destroyed_ SciTech! Holy hell Jemma you should have seen the look on their faces when they processed what May was saying!” 

Skye’s eyes flit over to where the SciTech crew had stormed off following the verdict and grins smugly. “Yeah they were all here. Garrett, Sitwell, and Pierce were watching and fucking Ward was the prosecutor for them. Ha. Idiot’s not their golden boy anymore is he?” 

Skye pauses for another moment and beams at the response on the other end of the line. She actually squeals in happiness before audibly saying the result of Fitz’s hearing into the speaker. “No, not even a day! Just community service! How dope is that?! May said he for sure would have gotten jail time if it weren’t for you.” 

She pauses again to listen and whatever Jemma’s response had been causes Skye’s smile to widen even more. 

“I _know!_ Hold on a second.” She covers the receiver as she looks towards Fitz, who is just now realizing that he’s standing up with his hand out stretched in Skye’s direction. He extends his arm further towards Skye and motions for her to give him the phone. She gives him a dubious look before nodding and handing it over. 

He takes a deep breath before hesitatingly placing the mobile to his ear. 

“Jemma?” 

It’s silent on the other end of the line and for a moment he wonders if Skye had actually just been talking to nothing. Then he hears a voice that makes his heart beat erratically in his chest. “Yes?” 

“ _Thank you._ ” 

She’s silent for a moment and he’s not sure that she’d actually heard what he’d said. He sighs in defeat, thinking that she likely _had_ heard and just wanted to acknowledge his thanks as little as she’d been acknowledging his apologies. Then she speaks softly and he has to strain to hear what she’s saying over the din of the courtroom. 

“It’s ironic isn’t it.” 

Fitz blinks in confusion at this and tries to think if he might have misheard her. “What?” 

She pauses for another moment before her voice grows louder over the speaker. “That in the end… _I_ was the one who got to ruin SciTech.” 

Fitz’s mouth opens as he processes her words. He gives a watery laugh at this and nods despite the fact that she can’t see him. “Yes I suppose that _is_ rather ironic. You did more damage in two minutes than I did in two months.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” 

Jemma’s voice is softer now and the smile he thought he’d heard behind her earlier words is gone. Fitz feels his throat constrict at her implication and remembers that he actually had done quite a bit of damage over the past few months, just not to SciTech. 

Skye is looking at him worriedly. He’s sure that his brief laugh had given the other girl a flicker of hope and his subsequent crestfallen look had quickly taken said hope away. He lets out a long sigh and stutters into the receiver, lying to Jemma one more time. 

“Skye… Umm… Skye is asking for her phone back… She wants to talk to you again so… I’ll just let you go. Thank you again. For… Well, you know.” 

He hastily thrusts the phone into Skye’s hand and turns around before he can see her disappointed look. He shoves his hands into his pockets and shuffles his way to the back of the courtroom where Hunter and the other SHIELD members, minus a noticeably absent Mack, are loitering. 

Fitz is quickly engulfed in an enormous group hug as everyone chatters about happy they are that he’d essentially gotten off, no pun intended, Scot free. He smiles at them but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and the others seem to notice. 

Hunter throws his arm around Fitz’s shoulders and softly says, “This is just step one mate. Everything else will work out too. You’ll see.” 

Fitz glances up at the other man, slightly surprised by the complete sincerity of his words. He gives Hunter a much more believable smile and nods his head in determination. 

_He’s right._

This battle is over but the important one is still ahead and Fitz isn’t going to give up. His eyes flit around the courtroom, taking in all of the people who had been there for him through thick and thin, and he knows that with them by his side he can accomplish anything. 

Jemma Simmons better get ready, because Fitz has a new mission that has nothing to do with SHIELD or SciTech and everything to do with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the later than usual update/later than usual replies to your wonderful comments. This week has been spent focused more on the fic I did for the Better Together Exchange put on by the FitzSimmons Network, meaning that TDPTM was briefly put on the back burner. But hey, if you're one for some bickering FitzSimmons AU's, apparently that's all I write and you might enjoy checking out 'Much Ado About SHIELD.' And now that sucker has been been posted and I'm back in the TDPTM mindset and we're in the home stretch!
> 
> Tomorrow's chapter will likely be posted in the afternoon so keep your eyes peeled for, "Reunited and It Feels So Good (But Could Feel Better)"
> 
> Thank you as always for reading and commenting! I'm still stunned that people are actually sticking with this :)


	28. Reunited And It Feels So Good (...But Could Feel Better)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz devises his final plan to win Jemma back and gets support from a surprising group of people.

When Fitz tells Skye his plan her mouth drops open for a few moments before she launches herself at him and squeals in excitement. She spends the next ten minutes listening eagerly as he tentatively gives her more specifics about what he’d been thinking and, when he shows her the designs he’d hastily drawn up after the hearing, Fitz swears he sees her eyes water. She scoffs and denies it immediately when he asks her about it, but Fitz doesn’t miss the way she furtively glances in the mirror to make sure her make-up is still in tact. 

Skye’s eager response motivates him and Fitz feels a bit of the tension in him go away at her outward approval. He’d thought it was a good idea, at the very least an _original_ one, but he’d been holding his breath in anxiousness, worrying that Skye might look at him in sympathy and tell him to scrap the whole thing. 

Instead, she turns to him with a smile on her face and he feels a surge of hope at her determined expression. “So Fitz, what do you need me to do?” 

-O- 

Skye is somewhat disappointed to learn that what Fitz _actually_ needs her to do aren’t any tasks that require much action, but she perks up immediately when he gives her a shopping list, a Laboratory Equipment Catalog, and his credit card. 

Fitz gives her a stern look and warns her to stick to the list and not to go overboard. Skye just scoffs and reminds him that this stuff doesn’t excite her the way it does him, so she wouldn’t even _begin_ to know how to go overboard in the first place. Fitz still finds a few extra purchases on his online credit card bill but he doesn’t think it’s worth the energy to chastise Skye for tacking rainbow lab gloves on to the order. 

They spend the entire weekend crossing things off the list and, after realizing that Skye can convince just about anyone to _do_ anything, Fitz watches her negotiate for the larger pieces of equipment by phone. He’s not all concerned with money so much as he is with the timeline, he _needs_ to get everything by the end of the week, and he’s desperate to bring it all together by Friday. 

Fitz stresses this fact to Skye repeatedly who in turn works her magic, twisting her hair and flirting over the phone to ensure that everything has an expected delivery date no later than this upcoming Thursday. Fitz is more than impressed with his friend’s skills, and is even more stunned when each of her calls end with her turning to him with a wink and a grin while saying, “No charge for the expedited shipping. _That’s_ how good I am.” 

This happens nearly a dozen times and by late Sunday night Fitz is laying stunned on his bed as he processes the fact that _this might actually work._

 _He might actually be able to put this all together and pull it off._  

He lets a small smile cross his face and closes his eyes to drift off when his phone begins buzzing on his nightstand. Fitz rolls over on the bed and reaches for the device, sitting up quickly and staring at it in shock when he sees who’s calling. He feels a brief flash of anger and is tempted to hit ignore, but his curiosity is stronger so he hits accept and tentatively raises the phone to his ear. 

“Mack?” 

“Fitz! I’m sure you’re not interested in speaking with me, but I need you to come into the SHIELD office tomorrow morning. There’s something we need to discuss.” 

Fitz looks dubiously at where his fingers are tugging at a loose thread on his comforter as he listens to the other man. “Listen, I really don’t wan…” 

Mack cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. “Trust me Turbo. Just be here at ten, and bring Skye.” 

There’s an underlying emotion within the words that immediately clues Fitz in to how important they are. The fact that Mack is telling him to bring _Skye_ of all people is even more alarming so Fitz agrees to come by the office tomorrow morning. Mack sighs in what _sounds_ like relief and says, “Good,” before Fitz hears the line go dead. 

He pulls his phone away from his ear and stares at it quizzically for a moment before hoisting himself off his bed and puttering over to Skye’s room. He can see light streaming through the bottom of the door so he knocks clearly without fear of waking her up. He doesn’t wait to hear her, “Come in,” before turning the handle and sticking his head inside. 

“So… I just got a phone call…” Skye glances up from her laptop with interest and motions for him to continue. “… from Mack.” 

She doesn’t react the way he’d been expecting her to. He figured that she’d roll her eyes and scoff, possibly go on a tangent about what a terrible friend the other man had been, but instead her eyes light up in excitement. 

“Really?! What did he say?!” 

Her question is said with just as much enthusiasm as her expression seems to be radiating and Fitz shoots her a perplexed look. Skye seems to notice his confusion because she quickly returns her gaze to her laptop and transforms her face into one of complete passivity. 

“I mean… did he call to apologize for being such a dick?” 

Fitz’s eyes narrow in suspicion at Skye’s sudden shift in mood but he decides that it’d be best not to call her out on it. “No, actually. He asked me to meet him at the SHIELD office tomorrow…” 

He slows his words as Skye begins to bite her lip because Fitz is well aware that it’s a tell for when the girl is trying to keep from smiling. She doesn’t look up from her laptop though and sounds just as noncommittal when she says, “Did he now?” 

Fitz nods slowly as he considers Skye. The lack of eye contact, lip-biting, and general dodginess are all indicators that she’s keeping something from him… and he wants to know what it is. “Yeah he did. Ten AM, he wants you to come along as well.” 

Fitz studies her reaction, hoping she might give another clue as to why she’s acting so weird, but Skye just looks up at him contemplatively and shrugs. “Sure why not. I’ll be your moral support.” 

Fitz blinks slowly at this before moving into Skye’s room and standing at the foot of her bed with his arms crossed. “You’re being weird. What is going on with Mack?” 

Skye looks up at him from her laptop with a mix of shock and confusion. “How should _I_ know?! You’re the one who told _me_ that he called.” 

“Skye…” Fitz stares at her unblinking and hopes that this will be the first time that he wins a staring contest against her. 

It isn’t. 

His eyes water after about ten seconds while Skye’s remain completely open as she defensively responds to him. “I know nothing Fitz. All I know is what you just told me. Do you not _want_ me to come with you?” 

There’s a vulnerable timidness to the question that causes Fitz to blink and all but shout, “Of _course_ I want you to come!” 

Skye just smirks at him and shakes her head in mockery before her gaze returns to her laptop. “Okay good. We’ll leave at a quarter till.” 

Fitz’s mouth drops open slightly because he _knows_ he’s being played. He _also_ knows that he’s basically walked himself into whatever side-scheme Skye has been working on alone, which means that there’s no way that he’ll be able to get out of it. He looks at her for a few minutes before stuttering out a hesitant, “Okay…” and walking out of her room. 

He flops onto his own bed and stares at the ceiling for a few silent moments before deciding that sleep will do him more good than attempting to piece together this new mystery. He sets his alarm for 9 and places his phone back on his nightstand before rolling over and drifting to sleep. 

-O- 

At 9:58 the next morning Fitz is pacing outside of the SHIELD office as Skye leans against it and rolls her eyes at him. “What’s your damage Fitz? We’re _here_ let’s just go in already!” 

Fitz stops pacing to look at her anxiously. “But _why_ are we here Skye? Why did Mack tell me to come and, even more importantly, why did he give permission for _you_ of all people to tag along?” 

“The answer to your first question is, again: how the hell should I know? And the answer to your _second_ question is: rude. Why _shouldn’t_ I of all people tag along? I’m the bee’s knees. The platonic peanut butter to your jelly. The Sigfried to your Roy. The Morgan to your Chuck. Who else would be here?” 

Fitz has nothing to say to this so he doesn’t even bother trying, instead opting to push the door open and motion for Skye to enter first. 

Fitz is surprised to see most of SHIELD in the large space. He spots Hunter and Darcy grinning at him from the corner, Idaho waves at him from where he’s sitting at one of the desks, and many of the other protestors he’s spent the past few months and years with are crowded into the space and smiling at him. Fitz is a bit alarmed by the sight and he glances in question at Skye who just shrugs at him. 

He’s about to believe that she’s just confused as he is but, as he turns back to face the others, he catches her wink in Hunter’s direction. 

Fitz moves to turn back to Skye and question her about _what the hell is going on_ but then hears, “Fitz,” bellowed across the room. He looks towards where Mack is standing in the door of his little office and his feet immediately begin to shuffle towards him when the other man beckons him forward. Skye grabs his hand and squeezes it tightly as the two of them walk towards Mack. When they reach the other man, he gestures for them to step inside. 

Fitz can feel Skye shaking slightly and assumes that it’s the result of the same thing that’s making _him_ shake: nerves. He turns to look at her and blinks in shock as he notes that Skye isn’t shaking at all, she’s _vibrating._ Skye is vibrating with an excitement that Fitz doesn’t understand and he doesn’t even have time to question her before Mack is telling them to have a seat. 

Fitz and Skye both follow the direction and sit in the two seats across from Mack’s. Fitz watches as the other man makes his way around the desk and plops down in his own chair. He can’t help but compare it to the _last_ time he’d been in this office across from Mack, and Fitz is a little surprised to see how much more comfortable the other man seems to look now. 

“I’m just going to cut to the chase Fitz, if that’s alright with you?” 

Mack raises an eyebrow at him and Fitz just glances at Skye who’s trying to cover her grin. He turns back to Mack and nods slowly because he’s so confused that he’s not sure he’ll actually be able to verbally answer with an intelligible response. 

“First and foremost: I’m sorry about what I did the other week. I was upset and frustrated with you and, while I _was_ just following SHIELD rules, I could have done it with a bit more tact and acted more as a friend than a superior.” 

Fitz blinks at this and feels a lump form in his throat. He’s well aware that Mack’s actions weren’t necessarily personal, but it had still stung in the moment and Fitz is appreciative of the fact that the other man seems to be aware of it. 

“Thanks Mack. And again, I’m _really_ sorr…” 

Fitz is cut off by the other man’s dismissive wave of the hand. “Water under the bridge Fitz. I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to actually push said water under the bridge but… better late than never I hope.” 

Fitz nods his head eagerly, somewhat lifted at the fact that his friendship with Mack seems to be on the verge of being mended, but next to him Skye scoffs at the other man’s words. Fitz shoots her a look of warning while Mack, interestingly, just crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow. 

“Did you want me to continue Skye?” 

Skye blushes slightly at this and nods as she slides down in her seat. Fitz’s eyes flicker between them in puzzlement as he registers Mack’s words. They’ve all but confirmed that Skye _does_ know what’s going on, and likely _had_ been involved in a secret scheme behind his back. His gaze lands back on Mack who is staring at him seriously. 

“Hunter came to me after your hearing last week and told me about your sentencing. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to hear the verdict in person but… it lead me to do some thinking.” 

Fitz feels his heart begin to hammer in his chest because he’s learned that Mack _doing some thinking_ can be both a good or bad thing. The other man leans back in his seat as he stares at Fitz. 

“I called some of the higher ups to get a better sense of the rules regarding disassociating with members who have broken protocol and… I may have stumbled across a little loophole.” 

Fitz’s heart speeds up again but he doesn’t let himself hope. 

“I brought Hunter and Skye in to discuss said loophole and both of them thought that it might be something that you may be interested in.” Now he _does_ let himself hope because Skye is nodding her head vigorously and Fitz knows that she wouldn’t unless there was a good reason. 

He turns his gaze back to Mack who is now giving him a sympathetic look. “You can’t come back to hold any sort of position in SHIELD Fitz…” 

_And **that’s** why he hadn’t allowed himself to get his hopes up in the first place._

Fitz’s eyes move down to focus on where his hands are fiddling in his lap, hoping that concentrating on scratching his fingernail against the worn denim of his jeans may distract him from the tears that are prickling his eyes.

“…but you _can_ come back as a volunteer, say… in a community service capacity…” 

Fitz’s mouth drops open at this as his mind processes Mack’s words. 

_Volunteer. Community Service._

His head snaps up in shock and he stares at Mack before turning to Skye who is grinning with unbridled delight. He’s in a state of disbelief as his eyes shift between them and now nothing can distract him from the tears in his eyes. 

“Does… does that mean…” 

Mack smiles warmly at Fitz and nods at the question that he hadn’t even been able to spit out. 

“I’ve spoken to Judge Hand and she’s already agreed to count any time you spend with us as part of your sentence. You’ll obviously be working with the community outreach section of SHIELD, and likely won’t be doing much protesting, but if you’re interested… we’re happy to have you back Fitz.” 

Fitz releases something that sounds like a hybrid between a sob and a laugh as he nods enthusiastically while using his sleeve to brush away the tears that have begun to fall down his face. He keeps nodding as he sniffles into his hands and covers his face from Mack and Skye, not wanting either of them to see him cry. He hears a chair scrape against the floor and then feels arms wrap around him in a hug. He sniffles again, takes a few moments to compose himself, and then lifts his head to give Mack a watery smile. 

“I’d… I’d really, really, like that.” 

Mack’s eyes seem to be a bit more moist than usual and he stands up to move around the desk. Fitz takes this as a sign that he should stand too and is glad that he does because Mack pulls him into a big hug before stepping back to pat him on the shoulder. 

“Glad to have you back Turbo.” 

The other man moves towards the door of the office and Skye loops her arm around Fitz’s as they move to follow him. Mack opens the door, takes a few steps into the room, and stares seriously at the others who are anxiously awaiting the news. His face breaks into a grin and he shouts, “He’s in. Please welcome our newest SHIELD volunteer!” 

He steps aside with his arm outstretched and Fitz bashfully steps out of the office as his friends begin to cheer and make their way over to him. He finds himself in the middle of the largest group hug he’s ever been a part of and it takes everything his has not to start crying again in happiness. 

When they pull away, Hunter claps him on the back with a grin. “See mate, I told you it’d all work out.” 

Fitz smiles at this but it falters as he’s reminded of the fact that not _everything_ had actually worked out just yet. The others seem to note his shift in mood and Fitz doesn’t miss Skye mouthing, “ _Jemma,”_ to them. 

Hunter and Darcy’s eyes widen in understanding before moving to Fitz in sympathy. He sighs at their concerned gazes and tries to put on a small smile for their benefit. They don’t buy it for a second because Darcy quickly tugs him to the couch and motions for the others to follow. 

Once they’re all seated, Darcy turns to him seriously and asks, “What can we do to help?” 

Fitz stares at her in shock before his eyes shift to the small circle of people who look just as eager to assist. “You… you actually _want_ to help me try to win her back?!” 

Darcy rolls her eyes in response and looks at him as though he’s the dumbest person she’s met. “Fitz, you made me spend _an hour_ talking to Jemma on the phone and it ended up being the most interesting conversation I’ve had with another person. That girl is _amazing._ Of _course_ I want to help you get her back! Then maybe you’ll share and I’ll get a chance to hear the end of that story she was telling me about…” 

Fitz’s mouth is agape and he shifts his eyes to Hunter who is nodding his head enthusiastically. “Yeah Jemma’s great. Feisty, that one is. I think she’s good for you and I’m _always_ down to be someone’s wingman Fitz, _always.”_  

His eyes skip over Skye because he’s already well aware that she’s 100% on board for his plan to get Jemma back. His eyes warily flit over to Mack who is standing with his arms crossed and looking down at him. 

“I’m in too.” 

It’s not just Fitz who turns to Mack in shock and he shrugs his shoulders defensively at the stunned faces of the others. “I’ve never had a problem with the doc. I had a problem with how _Fitz_ approached the situation and allowed himself to get distracted by her. But she ended up being instrumental in A. setting SciTech back a couple million dollars and a few years research; and B. keeping my friend out of prison. If you need me to do something, I’ll do it.” 

Fitz’s eyes prickle again as he looks around the circle and notes how willing and eager the people before him are. He gives them a small smile and opens his mouth, “I really appreciate it. But you guys have already done so much and I don’t think I could ask you to…” 

Skye cuts him off and stands up, looking seriously at the gathered people and speaking with authority. “We have a shitload of equipment coming to this address throughout the course of the week.” 

She moves over to write the address on one of the blank whiteboards hanging on the wall before turning back around to take in the nodding faces of the SHIELD workers. “Fitz and I are basically going to be camped out there for the foreseeable future, so, if any point you guys can stop by to help us unload stuff and get the place set-up before Friday… that’d be dope.” 

The group glances around at each other before simultaneously turning back to Skye and nodding their heads in eager agreement. Skye claps her hands in delight. 

“Great! So here’s the plan…” 

-O- 

The rest of the week is spent doing exactly what Skye had said they’d be doing. It seems that every hour a new piece of machinery or equipment is delivered and Fitz, along with the help of Skye and his SHIELD comrades, diligently work to get everything unloaded and set-up in its proper place. Fitz completely immerses himself in the scheme but doesn’t forget to continue having the TeaTime pastries delivered to Jemma each day. 

To be honest, he’s not even sure she’s eating them, he’s almost certain that she’s throwing them away, but he can’t seem to stop sending them. At this point, he’s really just sending them for his own selfish benefit. When Skye asks him about it after an exhausting day, he just shrugs instead of telling her that he’s not quite ready to give up what has seemingly become his last tether to Jemma Simmons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap. Fitz is has a plan and everyone is on board!!!!
> 
> This is the awkward moment where I have to tell you that the next update likely won't be until Saturday since this week I have to do this dumb thing called, "Graduate from college and figure out what I'm doing for the rest of my life." So I, unfortunately likely won't really have much time for posting. Sorry, sorry, sorry!!! If I DO find a spare minute on the regular posting days I'll do my best to get something up but... I'm just saying it'd be wise to go in assuming that there won't be an update until next weekend.
> 
> SORRY AGAIN!!!
> 
> But the next chapter, "Last-Ditch Effort," has Fitz's plan coming to fruition with Jemma so at least you definitely have something to look forward to in terms of another dramatic interaction between those two!!!!


	29. Last-Ditch Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz's plan is finally revealed as he uses his last resort in his attempt to make things right with Jemma.

“Are you sure this’ll work?” Fitz glances over at Skye where she’s sitting beside him on the couch flipping through a small notebook. 

His friend glances up at him in astonishment as she processes his words before leaning forward and gaping at him. “Am _I_ sure this will work?! Fitz, this was _your_ idea!” 

He nods and waves dismissively at her as he leans back against the couch. “No, I know! I just meant… Are you sure you think it’s a _good_ idea?” 

The nervousness in his voice is evident and he begins to anxiously tap his fingers against a pillow as he awaits Skye’s response. 

Her _initial_ response is nothing more than a snort and a shake of the head. She’s silent for a few moments before she moves her gaze back to the notebook and she verbally answers him. “I think you’ve spent the past week blowing through your funds and putting all of this together so it had _better_ be a good idea.” 

“Right.” Fitz’s hands begin to twist nervously in his lap and he feels his heartbeat quicken. 

Skye must be able to sense his nerves because she quickly puts the notebook down and turns to face him fully. “In all seriousness… Yeah, I do think this is a good idea. It wouldn’t be a good idea if it were _anyone_ other than Jemma but… it might just work. That being said… I think there’s every possibility that it could completely backfire and blow-up in your face but… I _really_ hope it doesn’t.”

He nods his head once before glancing back towards his friend. “She… she doesn’t suspect anything?” 

Skye shakes her head at him with a small smile. “Nope. None the wiser. She thinks I’m taking her to lunch to thank her for saving your ass and to give her updates on what’s been going on since the hearing.” 

Fitz gives her a tremulous smile and nods his head once in satisfaction. “Good.” 

-O-

Fitz is pacing around the lab, eyes flitting in every direction to make sure that everything is in place. He and the SHIELD crew had worked tirelessly over the past few nights to make sure that everything from the largest appliance to the smallest beaker is in its rightful place and he’s happy with how his newly leased laboratory looks. But it’s not _himself_ that he wants to make happy; which is why everything has to be perfect because he only has _three minutes._

_Oh god. **Three minutes.**_

He casts one last cursory glance around the small lab before nervously moving to the center of the room. He stares at the door in trepidation, slowly counting down the seconds until Skye is due to arrive. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands clenched at his sides, and when he reaches 180 seconds in his head he holds his breath and strains his ears for any sound. 

He doesn’t have to wait long, another minute at most, before he hears the buzzer. He quickly moves to click the one along the wall near the light switch before making his way back to the middle of the room and fixing his gaze on the door. He holds his breath again and feels his heart begin to hammer in his chest when he hears a feminine voice that doesn’t belong to his roommate.

“Skye I _really_ don’t think we’re meant to be in here… Are you sure you got the address right? This doesn’t look like a café to m…” 

Jemma’s voice falters the moment she walks through the door and sees Fitz standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She stares open-mouthed as her eyes flit around the lab and take in everything that Fitz had spent every day since the hearing working on. Jemma’s eyes land on him again and she makes to turn around but Skye is blocking the doorway with an apologetic look. 

“Skye, move.” 

Skye shakes her head resolutely at the other girl. “I’m sorry Jemma but I _really_ can’t do that.”

Jemma glares at her in complete betrayal. “You _promised!_ You promised me that you wouldn’t get involved!” 

Her voice cracks halfway through the sentence and Fitz can see the way that Skye’s face falls at the sound. 

“I know. I know I did but… I lied! I’m _sorry_.” 

Skye’s voice breaks just as much as Jemma’s had and her face falls even more when Jemma laughs humorlessly and takes a step away from her. 

“Of course you lied, must be something in your apartment’s water. Skye, _please_ move. I really don’t want to do this right now.” 

“I know. I know you don’t, but we both know he’s not going to stop.” They both glance over to him and he quickly nods his head and shrugs in confirmation at Skye’s words. He can see Jemma’s jaw tense before her eyes quickly move back to the other girl.

“ _Please move_.” 

“Jemma, hear him out. Just give him _five_ minutes and then you’re free to go. And… and then if you never want to see either of us again… We’ll both leave you alone. Fitz will stop sending you the daily apologies and I’ll stop helping him do it. If it’s what you want, we’ll _both_ drop off the face of _your_ earth.”

Fitz’s mouth drops at Skye’s words because this had _not_ been part of the plan. At no point had they discussed _Skye_ losing Jemma. It hadn’t even been a consideration and, the fact that she’s offering it now sends twin jolts of dread and hope through his core. Dread because it’s just an added bit of pressure and hope because he doesn’t think Skye would offer to give up her friendship with Jemma if she didn’t honestly believed that Fitz could convince her with his plan.

Jemma seems just shocked by the other girl’s words and she looks as though she’s about to argue but then she pauses and just nods her head.

“Okay…” Jemma turns to face him. “You have five minutes. And when those five minutes are up, I’m walking out that door and neither of you will follow.” Both he and Skye nod at this before Jemma continues speaking.

“And after I leave… we’re _done_ okay? No more cookies, no more flowers, no more tea. You stop with all that and give me the _only_ thing I’ve asked for during this whole debacle: time and space.”

Fitz nods again, slowly and deliberately, and tries to infuse as much sincerity into his expression as he can. Jemma turns around to face Skye, who nods quickly with her hands up before backing away and shutting the door behind her.

Fitz watches as Jemma breathes deeply and turns back around to face him. Her face is carefully neutral, fixed into an impassive expression that reveals little about what she’s actually thinking and feeling. It’s silent for a few long moments before she crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow at him. 

“I’d like to offer you a job.” 

Fitz winces at his delivery, or lack thereof, and grimaces at the fact that he’s just blurted out something that he and Skye had meticulously recited and planned for days.

Jemma’s arms fall to her side as she blinks in shock. “Excuse me?” 

“I…umm… I’d like to hire you. To work. I’d like to hire you in any capacity.” 

 _Dear lord could he at least **try** to get through a sentence without stumbling._ 

Jemma stares at him in silence, likely trying to determine whether or not this is him being serious, before straightening and moving to turn towards the door. 

“Goodbye Fitz.” 

His voice is laced with desperation as he all but yells across the room, “Wait! No, no, no! You said I could have five minutes. Just hear me out please!” 

Fitz frantically takes a few steps towards her, arms outstretched as though he’s approaching a wild animal. The way she’s glaring at him makes him think that a wild animal would actually be preferable right about now. It’d be far less likely to kill him than Jemma seems to be. 

Jemma stills, back facing him, and makes no move to actually open the door so Fitz begins to slowly walk towards her as he resumes speaking. 

“In exactly one year, two months, and thirteen days, my non-compete will have run its course and I will officially be able to start patenting my designs again.” 

Jemma whirls around at this, looking startled for a moment by his proximity before her face shifts into an expression of combined anger and derision. 

“Well that’s just _great_ for _you_ Fitz, congratulations! I don’t understand what this has to do with…” 

He cuts her off before she can continue and quickly shouts, “I’m working on a prototype! For a gun!” He winces once again at his piss-poor delivery of the news as Jemma takes a step back from him and gazes at him cautiously. 

“What?” 

Fitz groans at his idiocy as well as her dubious reaction towards his comment. He hastily tries to explain that he’s not on the brink of creating a deadly weapon. 

“A non-lethal gun. And I’ve been trying to figure out the _non-lethal_ aspect when I remembered something that an insanely intelligent slash beautiful woman told me about dentrotoxin…” 

Jemma’s eyes narrow at his words but he can see the immediate interest that the word _dendrotoxin_ has sparked in her. She looks as though she wants to pester him with questions but refrains from doing so and instead just gestures for him to continue. 

“So…well… I managed to get my hands on the stuff…” 

This causes Jemma’s mouth to drop open in surprise and what _looks_ like excitement. She moves closer to him, stopping a mere two feet away, and it takes everything Fitz has not to jump in eagerness at the small progress they’ve made. 

“You what?!” 

Jemma’s voice is both louder and two octaves higher than usual as she stares at him in complete bewilderment. She doesn’t look quite as angry as before so Fitz lets a small, _very_ small, smile cross his face and he decides to just stop holding himself back and answer eagerly. 

“Yeah, got my hands on some dendrotoxin… in both a literal and figurative sense.” 

Her eyes open slightly at the first bit of his sentence before narrowing at the second. 

“I used the patent money I still had laying around to _buy_ the dedrotoxin, that’s the figurative bit, and then physically picked some of it up, that’s the literal…” 

Jemma’s eyes narrow even more at _physically picked some of it up_ and she moves closer to him, now just a foot away. “ _How_ did you pick it up Fitz?” 

The tone of her voice clues Fitz in on the fact that she’s likely expanded on his vague description and has pieced together what exactly he hadn’t confessed to yet. He quickly tears his gaze from hers and glances down at his shuffling feet. 

“You know, I just… I just lifted it!” 

Jemma groans in exasperation and pinches the bridge of her nose between her forefingers. “Oh Fitz.” 

 _If she’s Oh Fitz-ing him now just wait until…_  

“Yes, yes, I know. Skye’s already given me the lecture about it. But it was all perfectly fine! There were no issues until…” 

“Until _what_?!” Jemma exclaims. 

He glances quickly down at the bandage wrapped around his hand and then immediately looks back up to find Jemma’s eyes focused on his palm. She looks back up at him in trepidation. 

“Until _what_ Fitz?” 

He swallows loudly at her piercing stare and cautiously answers her question. “Until… Well you see… then I dropped one of the little vials and cut my hand trying to clean it up and…” 

The next thing he knows the space between him and Jemma is gone and she’s gently cradling his bandaged palm in her hands. His heart begins to hammer at her proximity and he _finally_ feels as though they’re in a tentatively neutral space until she starts yelling at him as she examines Skye’s novice bandaging. 

“Oh my god, _Fitz!_ You can’t just go around bare-handing a toxin like that!” 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes at Jemma’s berating because _he is well aware of that._ “Yes I realize that _now_ … after the brief hour of paralysis…” Jemma’s mouth drops open at this so he hastily continues talking before she launches into a lecture. “I’ve also realized that I have no bloody clue how to actually safely and effectively use the stuff.” 

“Yes, clearly.” Jemma quickly drops his hand, snorting in derision, as she takes a step back from him and looks at him as though he is the stupidest person she’d had the misfortune of meeting. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” 

“Very likely… which is where I was hoping you’d come in.” 

Jemma takes another step back but he matches her movements and steps forward. Her look of confusion seems to grow and Fitz _watches_ as she tries to understand what it is that he’s saying. Her brows furrow again and she shakes her head at him in uncertainty. 

“What?” 

Fitz takes another step forward as he looks at her seriously. “I wasn’t kidding about hiring you. I want to be partners. It’ll take about a year for me to get the actual prototype built and tweaked… And I’d like you to work with me. It could be part-time, full-time, _any_ time.” 

“Fitz…” 

“I couldn’t pay you a lot… But I have my monthly patent checks, which are _way_ more than I’ve ever needed, and other than what I’ll spend on rent, we can use the rest of the money for whatever resources you’ll need! It won’t be as nice as SciTech… I know that… But look! I’ve already paid a year’s rent for this lab space and all the equipment… And whatever money we don’t use for supplies… It’s yours!” 

“Fitz…” 

“Your biochem skills combined with my engineering… Think about what we could _do_! We’ve been working _against_ each other for so long, and I _know_ that’s my fault, but Jemma… Just think about the things we could accomplish if we worked _together_! We could finish the dwarves, we could start something completely new, we can do _anything_ Jemma! We were the best things at SciTech and…” 

“Fitz!” 

Jemma’s shout of his name causes him to immediately stop talking and focus on her. She’s looking at him speculatively now and he holds his breath when she opens her mouth to speak. 

“I don’t know where this is coming from but…” 

 _Please say yes. Please, please say yes._  

“…your five minutes are up.” 

Fitz’s shoulders drop in disappointment at her words and he’s overcome with hopelessness. This had been his last shot, the _last_ part of his plan to keep Jemma in his life, and he’d blown it. And he’d promised this _was_ the last attempt. He’d given Jemma his word meaning that this will likely be his last interaction with her. 

“Right… Right I guess they are.” Fitz looks at Jemma in despair and feels his heart sink even further when her eyes turn to the floor. “I guess… Okay, I guess this is goodbye then?” 

Jemma’s eyes flicker away from the floor and meet his briefly before focusing on a point above his shoulder as she nods once. 

Before he can even think, he surges forward and throws his arms around Jemma, squeezing her tightly and burying his face in the crook of her neck. He holds on tight for a few brief moments before stepping back and hastily wiping his face to brush away the tears. 

“Sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have done that.”

His gaze is trained on his feet and when he hears a sniffle, he isn’t sure if it’s coming from him or Jemma. He keeps his eyes downcast and doesn’t move to lift his gaze until he hears her footsteps begin to shuffle away. He looks up just as she reaches the door and quickly calls out for her. 

“Jemma?” 

She pauses with her hand on the knob but makes no move to turn back. 

“I…” 

He can’t get the words out and gives up trying, instead being his usual cowardly self and choosing to say something else. 

“Don’t hold Skye to it. The deal I mean. I… I’ll hold up my end of the bargain but… don’t make her. She needs you.”

He lets his silent _I need you_ hang at the end but doesn’t attempt to vocalize it.

Fitz watches as Jemma straightens and nods one more time, agreeing to his plea regarding Skye, before she yanks the door open and walks out of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few precious minutes of freedom so here we are! The next chapter (Terms and Conditions) will be posted on Saturday, which will then allow us to resume our regularly scheduled postings.
> 
> Somehow over the course of this thing TDPTM went from being 24 chapters to 32, and now we're OFFICIALLY done at 35... which means only 6 chapters left!!! Ahhh, such a very strange thought!
> 
> Thank you as always for reading and commenting, and an additional thanks for all of the well-wishes this week!! It's always BEYOND appreciated and usually makes my day :)


	30. Terms and Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz finds himself in the Boiler Room after a week of zero contact with Jemma and is eventually joined by the last person he'd expect to see. Even more surprising is the light reading said person sends his way...

Six days later, Fitz is sitting alone at the Boiler Room, drinking away his sorrows in a responsible and safe manner, not willing to experience a repeat from the last time Jemma had driven him to drink. He’d kept up his end of the bargain, had stopped any and all contact with Jemma, and has been miserable every day of silence. 

He hadn’t sent her any sort of apology treat, he hadn’t forced Skye to scheme with him, and he hadn’t made any effort to convince Jemma to talk to him. There’s been complete radio silence because he’s _finally_ giving her the time and space that she’d asked for. 

So now Fitz is sitting here at three in the afternoon, arms resting on the bar and chin resting on his arms, and he’s trying not to think about all of the things he’d rather be doing or the one person he’d want to do them with. He sighs deeply, gesturing for the bartender to bring him another beer, and contemplates once again how he’d gotten himself in this situation. 

He’d promised Skye he wouldn’t go overboard and he’d meant it. She still hadn’t seemed to happy over the phone when he’d told her about his plans to get a beer, even threatening to come down and physically pull him out of the bar, but he’d finally just promised he’d be good and hung up before she could respond. 

After a few minutes of staring into space, he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and promptly burrows his face into his arms, mumbling a muffled, “Go away Skye.” 

“Not Skye, but I will go away if you need a moment to… have another drink.” 

Fitz quickly sits up at the familiar words and the even more familiar accent. He turns his body on the stool and is met with the sight of Jemma Simmons standing before him looking as angelic as ever. A choked laugh escapes him and it causes a small smile to cross Jemma’s face. The small quirk of her lips is enough to stun Fitz and his mouth drops open when she moves to carefully sit on the stool beside him. 

There’s an awkward silence that seems to loom over them, Jemma is fiddling with her hands and Fitz is just openly gaping at her as he tries to determine whether or not she’s a hallucination that his mind is conjuring up to punish him for his generally awful behavior. After a few moments, Fitz finally manages to open his mouth to speak when the bartender walks up and asks Jemma if she’d like something to drink. 

She glances at the beer in front of Fitz and he feels his face redden at her raised eyebrow. Jemma turns back to the bartender, smiling politely, before asking for a glass of water. It’s silent as the other man pours her drink and she waits until it’s been placed in front of her before turning to face Fitz. 

“I’ve considered your offer and I’m in.” 

Fitz has only had two beers but thinks that _surely_ he must be drunk as he processes her words. There’s really only one thing Jemma could be referring to but, considering he hasn’t heard from her in days, he assumes that he’s misheard her. She doesn’t move her gaze from his though and he decides that he needs to confirm what it is that he _thinks_ she’s implying. 

“Wha… what offer?” 

Jemma looks at him as though he’s crazy and her eyes flit back to the beer in front of him as though she too is now questioning his sobriety.

“To work with you in the lab on that prototype…” 

Fitz hastily straightens up, pushing the beer away from him, before turning to her in trepidation. “You have?” 

“Mmmhmm. I’ve considered all pros and cons and, while I’m still incredibly upset with you and don’t exactly think you _deserve_ a lab partner as exceptional as myself, the prospect of working with dendrotoxin on my own time, at my own pace, is too appealing to pass up. I’m not going to let our personal… situation… prevent me from pursuing my career interests. My loyalties aren't with you, they're not wit SciTech, they're with science. So, Fitz, I’m in. That is… if the offer still stands…” 

“Yes!” 

Fitz nearly topples over on the stool as he eagerly responds. Jemma jumps a bit as he stumbles to right himself on the stool but gives him a pleased smile once he’s stable enough to look at her with bright eyes. 

“Oh good. Because I’ve already met with May to draw up a tentative contract. Would you like to go over it?” 

Fitz stares at her with his mouth agape for a few moments before realizing that he has yet to answer the question. He nods his head rapidly as he simultaneously says, “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Wonderful.” 

Jemma moves to reach into her bag and pulls out an alarmingly thick binder full of sheets and sheets of paper. Fitz’s mouth drops open at the sight as alarm bells go off in his head but he quickly smiles encouragingly when Jemma makes eye contact with him. She nods at his reaction and proceeds to open the binder, browsing through the table of contents, _there’s a table of contents,_ and perusing the page before flipping through and stopping midway through the contract.

Jemma skims the page for a moment before looking back at him. 

“I’ll just read the key stipulations and then you can take this home to peruse more carefully before signing. I assume you’ve learned from your flub with SciTech?” 

Fitz nods at this and Jemma grins in response. “Great! So I’ll run through the basics and then you can take this off my hands, read through it, and let me know if it’s satisfactory. Good?” 

Fitz nods again, too afraid of speaking and saying something that might remove the smile from Jemma’s face. He’s slightly wary of said smile, because it seems… slightly off… almost secretive… but he much prefers this version of Jemma to the crying, angry one that he’s brought out during their past few interactions. 

“First: any and all research belongs to me and if said research is applied to any of your designs, we get joint credit for the final product.” 

Jemma pauses to give him a pointed look at this, which he responds to with a rapid nod of the head. 

“Second: the research methods that _I_ feel are necessary for my work will not be questioned or argued by you.” 

“Well… I mean… No promises ther…” 

“ _Third_ : We will each have our own key to the premises. You may _only_ use my key if I give you explicit permission to do so.” 

“Yeah… Yeah that’s more than fair…” 

“Fourth: You are _not_ my boss. You’re hiring _me_ to help you, and therefore I am your equal. 

“Of _course_ you’re my equal, if anything you’re my superi…” 

“Fifth: If you _ever_ steal so much as an _eraser_ from me… you’re out. I get full control of the lab, experiments, and research and you take your stuff to the nearest mechanics shop to work on it there. 

“Yes… That’s more than fair… And it’s funny you should say that because Mack actually _does_ own a mechan…” 

“ _Sixth:_ I’m allowed to pursue other interests. Unlike you, my contract with SciTech didn’t include a non-compete and I _do_ plan on sending my resume to more… established laboratories and institutions.” 

“One hundred percent. That’s a good idea. Nothing here will interfere with anything else you plan to do since we’ll basically just set our own hours and…” 

“Seventh: I get _full_ access to the lab. No secret projects that you know about and I don’t. If we’re going to work together, we’re working together on _everything._ Which leads me to Eighth: No lies. Don’t lie to me Fitz. I don’t care how inconsequential you think the lie may be. _Don’t do it._ Every issue between us could have been avoided if you’d just been honest; meaning that the _only_ way to avoid _future_ issues is to promise that we’ll be truthful with one another. _”_  

She gives him a look at this that is filled with every emotion under the sun. He can see the burning fire of her still-present anger, but beneath that all Fitz sees is the vulnerability and hurt that the stipulation has brought out in her. Jemma is silent for a moment and Fitz does everything he can to inflect as much sincerity as possible into his response to her demand. 

“No lies, no dishonesty, only the truth.” 

Jemma swallows at this and nods her head before looking back down at the binder. She doesn’t make any move to continue and, as she blinks quickly, Fitz realizes that she’s taking this moment to control her emotions. After a few long seconds she inhales sharply and responds. 

“Good.” 

She nods again before quickly shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts and Fitz is slightly shocked to see a small smile break out across her face as she taps the page she’s looking at. 

“Ninth: You are required to take me to TeaTime every Friday and pay for my lunch.” 

“Yeah sure I w… wait what?” 

Jemma turns to smile at him mischievously. “It’s one of the numerous employee benefits that May and I thought to include. There are plenty more where that came from but… I’ll just stop there and let you scan through the rest on your own.” 

_Uh oh._

Fitz nods dumbly at the woman next to him and watches just as dumbly as she takes a dainty sip of her water before sliding off the stool. She brushes a stray piece of lint off of her jeans and grabs her back from the bar, looping it over her should as she makes her way to the door calling a, “Read it over and then get back to me,” over her shoulder. 

His eyes move to the monstrous contract in front of him and he leans over the bar as his eyes began to scan the tiny black words. 

“And Fitz?” 

He glances up from the first page of the contract and peers quizzically over to where Jemma is standing with her hand on the door of the bar. She pauses for a moment as she looks him over and then speaks in the same mischievous tone that she had used earlier. 

“If you decide to drink yourself into another stupor… make sure Skye calls an ambulance _first_ this time.” 

Fitz groans and rolls his eyes but feels butterflies erupt in his chest as she gives him a genuine smile before exiting the bar. He stares at the door for a few long moments before gesturing for the bartender. “Can I get a Coke?” He looks down at the massive contract in front of him before looking back up at the other man with a slight grimace. “Or anything else you’ve got that might have caffeine.” 

-O- 

It takes Fitz a solid three hours to read through the entire binder and by the time he manages to _reread_ it and actually memorize the majority of the conditions and sub-conditions, the bar is closing and he’s getting kicked out. He’s not all that bothered by the fact as he hastily pulls out a pen from his pocket, signs and initials his name at all of the appropriate places, and quickly points his feet in the direction of Jemma’s building. He shoots Skye a text as he walks, filling her in on the events of the day, before putting his phone on silent and shoving it in his back pocket. 

When he finally makes it into Jemma’s building, Fitz takes the stairs three at a time and is full of so much adrenaline that he doesn’t even process his breathlessness as he finally reaches the sixth floor. He sprints down the hall until he makes it to Jemma’s door and pauses in front of it, grinning excitedly, before repeatedly pounding his fist against the wood. His grin widens when he hears an exhausted, “I’m coming… Jeez…” from the other side of the door and he pictures the eye roll that had likely accompanied Jemma’s exasperated words.

She yanks the door open and blinks wearily at him in confusion. “Fitz? What the hell are you doing here?! It’s 3AM!”

He isn’t phased in the slightest by her irritation and just allows his smile to widen as he extends his arm and holds the binder out to Jemma. 

“Here you go. Signed, sealed, delivered.” 

She takes it in her hands and flips through the document until she reaches the page that is littered with his signature. Jemma stares at it in confusion for a moment, likely making sure she’s _actually_ awake and seeing what she’s seeing, before her eyes lock onto his and she lets the binder drop to the floor as she crosses her arms and scoffs. 

“There’s no way you read that whole thing.” 

“Sure I did.” Fitz grins at her and nods enthusiastically at her skeptical look. She leans against the doorframe and his grin falters slightly as he’s taken back to a few weeks ago when the very same position caused him to launch himself at her and experience the best kiss of his life. He can’t do the same thing now but… he desperately wants to. 

His emotional shift isn’t lost on Jemma, but she evidently takes his wavering smile to mean that he’s lying about having read through the contract. She tilts her head and smirks at him as she decides to call him on what she believes to be a bluff. 

“Really? You read the _entire_ thing? What about the bit where, if you make me cry…” 

“I have a ten minute window to buy you tea and chocolates, otherwise you get to leave the lab and take the rest of the day off.” 

Jemma’s mouth drops open slightly at his finishing her sentence and she straightens up, pushing herself off the doorframe as she gives him a dubious look. When she catches sight of the _slightly_ smug smile that has returned to his face, she straightens again and narrows her eyes at him. 

“Okay that just proves you made it to the tenth page. Well… what about the part where I reserve the right to…” 

“Spoil any new Doctor Who episodes for me since you have access to the British live-stream and I have to wait for Skye to get home before I’m allowed to watch? Yeah, read that part too.” 

Jemma stares at him in bewilderment for a moment before physically shaking her head as though the movement will snap her out of her mini-stupor. 

“All right… made it to page twenty-seven as well, huh? Did you make it to sixty-three?” 

Fitz smiles at her before putting on a feigned face of confusion. “Remind me… was that the page stating that I’m obligated to go outside to eat any food that you deem to have too strong an odor? Or was it the page that states that you have _sole_ control and say over what music is played in the lab during work hours? _OR_ is it the page that states that you will only work if _I_ wear hot pink lab gloves and _you_ get to wear black ones because, ‘they’ll make you look badass’?” 

Jemma’s arms fall to her sides and she stares at him in complete shock. Her mouth drops further with each word he utters and she blinks quickly at him once he finishes speaking. She moves to speak three times before she actually manages to stutter out a sentence as she begins to gesticulate wildly. 

“But… Well what about the part where…” 

Fitz steps forward and quickly catches Jemma’s moving hands between his fingers. She pauses at the contact and looks up at him with a dumbfounded expression. 

“Jemma. I told you already. I’ve read the whole thing.” 

Jemma pulls her hands from his grasp and takes a step back into her apartment as she looks at him in confusion. “But… but that doesn’t make any sense!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because you signed it! You signed the contract even though there are two hundred and fifty three absurd stipulations that nobody in their right mind would agree to!” 

She’s moved closer to him and her face is now a few small inches away from his own. 

“Well… _I_ did. I _do_.”

“But _why?!”_ There are unshed tears in her eyes and Fitz wants nothing more than to make sure that they _remain_ unshed.

“Because I’d do any of that stuff if it means I’ll get to work with you! I’ll do that and more if it means you won’t hate me.” 

He’s breathing heavily now as he feels the familiar pinprick of tears behind his own eyelids. Jemma blinks back tears as she steps away from him and he swallows harshly in an attempt to clear the lump in his throat. 

“Jemma. I’ll read anything, I’ll sign anything, and I’ll _do_ anything if it means you’ll be in my life. As a colleague, as a partner as a friend, as… as anything. As whatever you want.” 

The tears are now slowly making their way down Jemma’s face and as Fitz looks at her, he realizes that she looks both sad and _guilty._ His heart begins to hammer wildly and what was left of his small smile disappears as his mind begins to put all of the pieces together. He thinks back to the smirk Jemma had given him in the bar and realizes that it was a victory smirk. Fitz blinks quickly as his eyes follow the tear tracks on her cheeks and notes the way that she’s staring at him in something akin to distress. 

His mouth opens and closes at her expression before he finally manages to say the words that he’s praying are untrue. “Unless… Unless you weren’t being serious about working together. Was this… was this just a joke to get back at me?” 

“ _This_ was…” 

Fitz feels his heart sink at her confession and takes a step back as he feels his throat close up and can only hear the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. He can vaguely see that Jemma’s lips are moving but can’t make out what she’s saying. He closes his eyes in an attempt to narrow his senses and focus on her voice instead of the all-consuming despair that seems to slowly be crushing him. 

“…never actually expected you to _sign_ the damn thing! The _actual_ contract is with May. She figured we should both be there to read through it, sign it together, and… Fitz? Are you all right?” 

Jemma moves forward in concern as Fitz hunches over and begins to take gasping breaths. He can feel her hand resting on his shoulder and gulps in air as he slowly begins to process that only the _contract_ had been a joke. Jemma’s agreement to work with him had been genuine. 

Fitz feels the tears begin to prickle at his eyelids and he quickly straightens as he hastily wipes at his eyes. He blinks rapidly for a few moments and looks at Jemma who’s still staring at him in concern. He’s elated by the sight because concern means she _cares_ and he laughs in delight as he launches himself at Jemma, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up in an enormous hug. 

She doesn’t exactly hug back, but she _also_ doesn’t make any attempt to break free from his grasp, so Fitz just holds on tight until his arms begin to burn. He places Jemma gingerly back onto the ground but doesn’t move to step away, instead shifting his arms and wrapping them around her shoulders. 

“Bloody hell Simmons. Don’t go around toying with my emotions like that!” 

 _This_ causes Jemma to push him away as she stares at him with a quirked eyebrow and ominous expression. “ _Excuse me?!_ I wouldn’t have even _wanted_ to ‘toy with your emotions’ if you hadn’t toyed with mine first!” 

She crosses her arms, face still looking irate, and Fitz smiles at the familiar sight. He knows he _shouldn’t_ smile but the glint in her eyes is challenging rather than furious, which takes him back to that first day he’d crashed into her. He tapers his grin and straightens up as he faux-defensively responds to her claim. 

“I said I was sorry!” 

“Oh right, I forgot that two words are supposed to instantly make up for the fact that you’ve essentially made my life _hell_ for the past few weeks.” 

Jemma’s words sober him pretty quickly because, even though her tone is rife with exasperation more than anything, Fitz knows that he really _has_ made her life hell. He shuffles away from her a bit and stares down at his shoes as he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. 

“Yeah. I know saying sorry isn’t really good enough. But… that’s why I also tried to _show_ you how much I regret everything that happened between us. Well… well not _everything._ I don’t regret umm… _some_ stuff. Just… you know, just the bad stuff.” 

He hears Jemma hum at this and lifts his head to find her standing with her arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. The sight _should_ make him continue to cower but instead it reminds him of all of their past squabbles and causes him to straighten and mirror her pose. 

“And I’ll have you know that I’m deeply disappointed that you let a perfectly good sandwich go to waste. Bloody shame.” 

“Oh _please_. It looked like Skye only managed to scarf it down through sheer willpower alone. I doubt I let a perfectly good _anything_ go to waste.” Jemma’s arms tighten across her torso and Fitz smiles slightly at her words. 

“Does that mean you didn’t let any of the chocolates and pastries go to waste…? Because those were all _perfectly good_ too.” Fitz moves closer to her with a smirk and Jemma’s eyes narrow at his proximity as well as his expression. 

“As a matter of fact. No. I _didn’t_ let those go to waste…” 

Fitz is about to cheer in victory at Jemma’s confession when she keeps speaking and quickly makes him close his mouth. “…I gave them to the family two doors down. Figured they’d appreciate your sad excuse for an apology more than I would.” 

Fitz groans at this and raises his hands in defeat as he steps even closer to her. “I’m _sorry._ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our liv… I mean… not… I just mean that… I mean it. I wouldn’t exactly be toying around with _dendrotixin_ if I didn’t.” 

Jemma rolls her eyes at the end of his statement and uncrosses her arms as she too takes a step forward so that she can retort in exasperation. 

“First of all, you shouldn’t be, ‘toying around with dendrotoxin,’ _at all._ And second of all yes, I know you’re sorry. And now that I’ve _begun_ to get you back with this little joke of a contract, I’m ready to _accept_ that apology.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him as she uses her gaze to leave him paralyzed. 

“You’ve _begun_ to get me back?! What else are you planning to do?!” Fitz stares at her in astonishment and feels a small trickle of fear work its way up his spine as Jemma’s expression shifts into one of complete and utter mischief. 

“That’s for me and the girls to know, and you to find out.” 

Fitz’s eyes widen slightly at this and the small amount of fear seems to expand as he considers what women in Jemma’s life may be looking to help her get some payback. “The _girls_? What girls?!” 

“Skye, naturally. May and Marta too, and my newest friend Darcy, whom I ran into the other day and found to be positively delightful when not pretending to be a journalist doing a fake piece on me.” 

Fitz’s hands go to his face and he groans audibly as his fingers begin to press against his temples. “Oh bloody hell.” 

“You should consider yourself lucky Fitz. You stole from me, turned me into a one-night stand, and got me fired from an _incredibly_ lucrative job. All _I’ve_ done so far is make you waste a few hours reading some silly joke of a contract.” 

The words themselves would have pushed Fitz back into a prison of guilt, but Jemma’s tone is more teasing and derisive than hurt and angry. He pulls his hands away from his face and stares at her challenging expression for a moment. When he sees a miniscule upturn of her lips he jumps at the chance to take advantage of her small smile and do what he can to keep it in place. He sighs theatrically before trying Skye’s puppy eyes and looking at Jemma with the most dramatic pout he can muster. 

“Yes but I _hate_ reading. Remember?” 

Jemma’s lips turn up a bit more as she once again rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Ah yes I do remember that… You especially hate reading _contracts_ if I recall correctly.” 

Fitz shuffles his feet forward a bit as she speaks and chuckles at her words. “ _Especially_ contracts. I’ll only read a contract if it concerns someo…thing… that I actually care about.” 

“Interesting… Though I do recommend reading _all_ contracts in the future.” Jemma gives him a warning look and he can’t stop himself from grinning. He looks down at her, now a few scant inches away, and nods contemplatively at her words as he stares at the ceiling to ponder them. Finally, he takes a deep breath, removes his eyes from the ceiling, and focuses on the caramel ones in front of him. 

“How about I just stick to verbal contracts from here on out?” Fitz extends his hand towards Jemma. “I’d like to enact a truce. Not a night truce, not a weekend truce, a twenty-four-seven truce. From here on out, it’s you and me, on the same side, together.” He tries to put as much sincerity into his face and words as possible while he anxiously waits for Jemma to respond. 

Her eyes remain fixed on his face as they flicker across it and try to figure him out. Fitz doesn’t find her appraisal to be uncomfortable this time because he’s no longer afraid that Jemma will understand him before he understands himself. Fitz has finally realized what he wants to do, who he wants to be, and whom he wants to be _with._ He stays still under Jemma’s inquisitive gaze because he wants _her_ to see what he himself has finally figured out. 

Jemma’s eyes finally move down to look at his outstretched arm and Fitz holds his breath for the entire twenty-six seconds that it takes for her to nod slowly and grasp his hand in her own. She shakes it once and loosens her grip but Fitz keeps his hand firmly around hers until she looks back up at him. 

Whatever playful humor had been present a few minutes ago is long gone and there’s a crackling tension between them that causes Fitz to swallow audibly. He sees the way that Jemma’s eyes seem to focus on his throat at the movement and it leaves him in a foggy headspace that he knows will put him in dangerous territory if he sticks around any longer. He clears his throat, squeezing Jemma’s hand as he does, before stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Okay… So I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Jemma gives him a confused look at this and Fitz quickly rephrases the question. “For work I mean. I’ll see you tomorrow in the lab?” 

She outright scoffs at this and levels him with a look that screams, _are you stupid?!_  

“No you certainly _won’t_ be seeing me at work tomorrow. Firstly because we still have to actually go over the _real_ contract, and secondly because some bloody awful Scot decided to come to my apartment at 3AM and completely muck up my sleep schedule, so I plan on sleeping in and making up for the loss of sleep that this little hallway excursion has caused.” 

Fitz blushes at this and takes the hint, quickly backing away from the door and into the hallway. “Yeah… Yeah right, course. Sorry. Again.” 

Jemma chuckles slightly and leans against the doorway as she stares at him expectantly. He stares back for a few moments before his brain decides to actually _function_ and he realizes why Jemma is giving him that look. “Right! Okay I’m going, I’m going.” He pivots around and takes a few steps down the hall before turning back and throwing a hesitant smile at the woman in the doorway. 

“Goodnight Jemma.” 

She rolls her eyes in what he _thinks_ is slight fondness and gives him a small wave that causes his heart to thump in his chest. “Night Fitz.” 

She closes the door before he can turn back around to walk away and Fitz stares at the wood for a few moments before heading back down the hallway. The smile on his face starts off small but widens with each step until he’s positively beaming. Jemma may not have completelyforgiven him yet but they’ve definitely made some headway. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up but, as Fitz exits the apartment building and makes his way towards his own abode, he thinks that he and Jemma might just be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'mon. Jemma gets to do all the research she wants on Fitz's dime. Isn't that kind of a win-win for her? No? Well next chapter's called either, "Payback's A Bitch," OR, "A Dish Best Served Cold," (still haven't settled on one...) SO if you think Jemma's gone a bit easy on ol Leopold... there are another few pranks that may be headed his way. That chap will be up sometime tomorrow!!!
> 
> Many, many, profuse thank yous for reading and commenting. It is very much appreciated, to the point where I can't properly articulate it!!!


	31. A Dish Best Served Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz learns pretty quickly that there really is no wrath quite like that of a woman scorned. He learns even quicker that a WOMAN scorned means facing the combined wrath of all of her friends as well.

When Fitz waltzes into his apartment he’s a second away from squealing in excitement, and actually does let out an embarrassing noise when he spots Skye anxiously pacing in the living room. She stops moving when he bursts through the door and it only takes her a quick glance at his elated face before she’s leaping at him in enthusiasm.

He lets out a loud laugh as he spins her around and repeats, “It worked,” over and over with each turn. 

Halfway through the sixth spin Fitz stops abruptly and puts Skye on the ground before crossing his arms and staring at her as he remembers a particular comment Jemma had made earlier. 

Skye looks a bit startled at the sudden shift from elated giddiness to silent staring and she looks up at him in concern as she tries to sort out why he’s looking at her so oddly. 

“Fitz…? You okay there buddy?” 

He stands with narrowed eyes, wondering whether or not just staring at Skye is enough to break her into confessing about whatever she and Jemma have been planning. After a few seconds Fitz remembers that he has quite literally _never_ won any sort of staring contest against Skye, and decides that the best way to get information is to simply bring up the subject and ask for it. 

“Jemma mentioned something earlier…” 

Skye’s brows furrow slightly before she tilts her head to look at him quizzically. 

“Did it involve how she plans on getting you back for all the stuff you did?” 

Fitz blinks at this, not expecting his roommate to be so blunt, and nods his head slowly at her question. 

“Actually... Yeah… you knew?” 

Skye rolls her eyes at this and shoots him a look that makes Fitz feel as though he’s a toddler being chastised for eating paste. 

“Well of _course_ I knew. I told her I’d help.” 

Fitz pauses at this because Jemma _had_ alluded to the fact that Skye was running point on this mission of retribution. 

“Yeah, she mentioned that as well. I guess… I just didn’t think you’d be so willing to admit it.” 

Skye shrugs nonchalantly before shooting him a mischievous smirk. “Well… I figure if she already told you, there’s no need for me to pretend that I’m not backing her up. Actually… this might make things more fun. The suspense really amps up once you’re in the know.” 

Fitz eyes his friend warily as the worry begins to permeate throughout his body.

“How umm… how long have you two been planning this?” 

Skye pauses dramatically, staring at the ceiling in thought as she taps her chin like a vaudeville villain. “Umm… Let me think… You broke into SciTech roughly two weeks ago so… Since the car ride to pick you up from jail.” 

Fitz gulps slightly at this as he processes the sheer amount of time that the women in his life have been plotting their revenge. “That’s… That’s a long time.” 

“Yup.” 

“So… So I should be pretty worried then?” 

Skye nods slowly, smile still in place, as she stares at him in a manner that seems to indicate how much trouble he’ll soon be in. “Oh definitely. Jemma’s much more organized than you, meaning our ‘Payback on Fitz’ notebook is _way_ more intense than _our ‘_ Get Simmons Back’ one. So yes, you should be pretty worried.” 

Fitz ponders this for a few moments before nodding his head with a small shrug. 

“Okay.” 

Skye blinks at this and her eyes narrow slightly as she tries to get a read on him. 

“Okay…?” 

Fitz just nods again, completely accepting of the payback that is coming his way. 

“Yeah, _okay_. Don’t let me off easy.” 

Skye smiles at this and she gives him a wide-eyed look of affront. 

“I would _never._ ” 

“Good.” 

“Great.” 

“Pizza?” 

“I’ll make the call.”

-O- 

On Sunday morning Fitz hustles to get dressed when, for some reason, his alarm doesn’t go off on time. He’d set it to go off an hour before he was meant to meet Jemma and May at TeaTime, but instead wakes up to Skye nudging him forcefully as she asks, “Aren’t you supposed to meet them in like, 10 minutes?” 

He bolts awake at her words and scrambles for the clothes he’d laid out the night before, only to find that they seem to have disappeared. He shoots Skye a look and is met with the sight of her leaning against his doorframe with a smug smile. He shifts over to his dresser, opening every drawer and confirming that, other than the clothes on his back, there’s not a single article of clothing in his room. 

He groans in exasperation before turning to Skye, who is now holding out a bright pink t-shirt that has, “I’m with stupid,” emblazoned across the chest in rhinestones with an arrow pointing up. 

Fitz pales at the sight and slowly begins to shake his head as he realizes what his friend has done. 

“You can’t be serious…” 

“Completely.” 

“Skye…” 

“Seven minutes left Fitz.” 

His eyes flit over to the clock as he mentally does the math to determine how much time it’ll take him to physically get over to TeaTime and he rubs his hands over his face when he realizes that there won’t be an opportunity to find anything else. He lets out a strangled yell before shoving his hand forward. 

“God dammit. Fine, give it here.” 

Skye throws her head back in laughter as she tosses the shirt at him and Fitz winces when she reaches out of his vision to retrieve a pair of equally bedazzled jeans. He whines at the sight and looks down at his torn pajama pants as he tries to determine which outfit would actually be more embarrassing to wear in public.

“Just a reminder that you got her fired.” 

The words make the decision for him and Fitz looks up with narrowed eyes. Skye is giving him a look and he stomps forward, snatching the pants from her grasp with a mumbled, “Fuck you,” as he heads towards the small bathroom to quickly change. Skye’s laughter follows him and only doubles when he reemerges in his new apparel. 

“Oh god… Pink is _so_ not your color. Which is ironic considering your face is pink, like, 80% of the time.” 

Fitz shoots her another look as he pulls on his Converse and snatches his phone from his table. He glances quickly at his watch and groans when he realizes that he is _definitely_ going to be late. He makes sure his keys are in hand and ignores Skye’s teasing shout of, “Good luck,” as he bolts out of the apartment and begins hurriedly sprinting down the stairs of the building. 

Because it’s _that_ kind of day, Fitz is punched with heat when he finally steps outside and groans at the trickle of perspiration that is already blooming across his hairline. He glances at his watch again, noting that he’s _supposed_ to be seated at TeaTime in 4 minutes, and decides that all he can do is run. May and Jemma are quite literally the last people on earth that he should make wait, so he sprints down the muggy city streets and doesn’t stop until he’s bursting through the door of TeaTime, sweating profusely and looking like a complete and utter train wreck. 

He bends over and gasps for breath once inside the air-conditioned restaurant and doesn’t stand up until his heart rate is back down to normal. He straightens and pauses when he realizes that most of the early morning patrons are staring at him with wide eyes and he blushes under their stares. His eyes flit across the room and stops when he sees a laughing Jemma and a thoroughly unamused May seated at a table in the corner. 

Fitz ducks his head in embarrassment as he makes his way across the room and sighs when he notices the enormous sweat-stains that have completely discolored his new shirt. He winces at the sight and slowly sits down in the empty chair across from May and Jemma as he tries to figure out the least obvious way to curl into a ball and hide. 

“You’re late.” 

May’s words are blunt and Fitz thumps his head on the table as he mumbles, “I _know._ Sorry,” into the cream tablecloth. 

“If you’re not going to take this seriously Fitz…”

His head snaps up at this and his eyes widen as he prepares to defend himself and assure the women that he is _definitely_ serious about this. They narrow just as quickly when he notices Jemma’s smirk and the miniscule upturn of May’s lips as they look at him. He groans again and rubs his hand over his face at the realization that he’d better get used to constant teasing and a general feeling of uncertainty. 

“Can we just get on with it?” 

May raises a brow at this and Fitz shoots her a pleading look and uses his eyes to silently beg her to give him a _small_ break. May glances at Jemma who waves her hand dismissively before giving him a curt nod and reaching into her briefcase. Fitz’s mouth drops open slightly at May’s deference to Jemma and he feels the anxiousness grow at the ease at which the younger woman has taken to calling the shots. 

It’s silent for a few moments as May organizes the papers, _far_ fewer than the massive binder Fitz had gone through the other day, before Jemma speaks up with a slight snort. 

“Nice shirt.” 

Fitz shoots her a slight glare that softens immediately at her raised eyebrow when he remembers just _why_ it is he’s wearing this monstrosity. He decides that complaining about it to _Jemma_ of all people is probably the worst thing he could do, so he decides to run with it and make it marginally less obvious how completely and utterly mortified he is. 

“You like? Figured it’ll match those magenta lab gloves you’re so eager to see me in.” 

Jemma’s mouth quirks up slightly at this, but then May lets out a short cough that causes the younger woman to immediately straighten and place her face back into an expression of complete neutrality. Fitz wants to sigh at the shift in Jemma’s composure but is well aware that he needs to be ready for anything. 

“If you’re done joking around Fitz…” 

His mouth drops at May’s tone and Jemma once again titters as he, in so many words, receives a stern lecture. He snaps his mouth closed at May’s look and instead nods his head petulantly and waits for her to continue. 

“Good. I’ve spent some time with Jemma running through the contract. She’s happy with it and, unless you see anything you’d like to adjust, I thinks it’s a mutually beneficial agreement that is ready to go.” 

May slides the document towards him as she speaks and Fitz nods his head along as he skims through the key points. He lifts his head to glance around the table before turning in his seat to scan his eyes across the entire café. 

“Fitz…” 

Jemma’s voice is melodic in his ear but he’s too focused on his search to turn to face her so he just hums in response. 

“Hmmm?” 

“What are you doing?” 

He realizes that he likely looks a bit manic, twisting his head and body around in search of something that no one else is aware of. 

“I’m looking for a pen.” 

“Why?!” 

Jemma’s borderline shout startles him and he looks over to her in surprise as he takes in her shocked expression. He’s not sure _why_ she seems so bewildered, thinking that it’s fairly obvious why he’s in need of a pen, and looks at her as he speaks slowly in response. 

“So I can sign the contract…” 

Her eyes widen at this and she shoots May, who is pinching her nose in exasperation, an astonished look before turning back to him. 

“Fitz!” 

Jemma’s shout startles him and he looks between her and May in confusion. 

“What?!” 

Jemma groans at the question before looking at him in complete irritation. 

“Have you learned _nothing?!_ You can’t just sign a legal document without reading it first! My god… I’m surprised stolen designs and being blacklisted are the worst things that have happened to you. Honestly Fitz…” 

When he just stares at her and gives a slight shrug, Jemma groans again and looks at him incredulously. 

“What if this document states that you can only perform specific experiments, or states that I get sole credit for any collaborations, or it gives me naming rights to your children!” 

“Yeah well, I’m pretty sure when we have kids you’ll have the naming rights anyways.” 

It’s an offhand comment that Fitz doesn’t really process until it’s too late and the words have already left his mouth. 

He tears his eyes from the document and looks up in panic as he realizes what he’s said and is met with the sight of an open-mouthed and wide-eyed Jemma. His own eyes bug out slightly and he begins to hastily shake his head as he desperately tries to figure out what he can say to get out of this one. 

“I meant _if_ … not _when_ we have kids… _if_ we have kids…” 

Jemma’s eyes widen even more at this and Fitz feels the blood rushing from his face. He casts a desperate glance in May’s direction, hoping that with everything else in his life she might be able to bail him out of this one, but she too seems just as flabbergasted by his word vomit as Jemma. 

“Oh my _god. If_ we have kids… separately… like you have kids… and I have kids… Not like _you and I_ have kids…” 

Jemma straightens slightly at this and Fitz realizes that he might have just _offended_ her with his vehement denial of the idea of them having kids. He wants to slam his head on the table but instead does the dumbest thing he can do and _keeps talking._  

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t _want_ to have your kids… though… I suppose technically _you’d_ be having _my_ kids but… I just meant… sure our kids would probably be great. Super smart, that’s inevitable. Unfortunately I think curly hair is in their future but brown eyes are dominant so they’d probably have your caramel ones… which would be pretty adorable, especially if they do that nose scrunch thing you do and… and… oh my god please excuse me while I find the nearest bridge to jump off.” 

He actually stands up to leave, not wanting to spend another second in TeaTime, but one of the damn rhinestones that Skye had glued to his pants catches on the seat cushion and makes him awkwardly trip forward in his escape attempt. 

“Bloody hell!” 

He narrowly avoids crashing face first into another table by hastily grabbing his chair and righting himself before he can make an even greater fool of himself. He sighs in embarrassment as he moves his hands over his face, hoping that the childhood idea of, “If you can’t see them, they can’t see you,” might hold true. 

It doesn’t because after a few long, and _incredibly_ awkward seconds, his name is being called and he’s turning to peek through his fingers at May. 

“Sit down and read the contract.”

He nods his head in acquiescence and plops back onto his chair while resolutely keeping his gaze focused on the paper in front of him rather than the woman he’d just described their future children to. 

The contract is actually a decent distraction so Fitz focuses on reading each line carefully and nodding his head at certain stipulations that he never would have thought of but is glad May and Jemma had. 

When he reaches the end he extends his hand towards May, still refusing to look up, and is grateful when she drops a pen into his palm without protest. Fitz signs on the dotted lines and initials all of the sections indicated by the various green tabs attached to the document. When the last _LF_ is scribbled on the paper he closes the folder, caps the pen, and pushes both over to Jemma. 

His face is bright red and he fiddles with his hands in his lap as he waits for her to peruse the document. 

Instead, she grabs the pen and quickly flicks through the pages, signing her name and initials in all of the appropriate places before handing it to May with a smile. 

At this point Fitz is gaping at the two women and, when they turn to look at him, he notes that Jemma’s cheeks seem to pinken when they make eye contact. She straightens and raises an eyebrow in question when he doesn’t wipe the confused look off his face. 

“Why didn’t _you_ read the contract before signing?” 

Jemma rolls her eyes at this and turns to look at May in exasperation. The other woman sighs and shakes her head, silently agreeing with whatever Jemma had conveyed with her eyes, before turning to Fitz with a look that makes him feel a little dumb. 

“Jemma and I _wrote_ the contract Fitz. She didn’t read it because she’s likely memorized the whole thing.” 

Jemma just nods when Fitz’s eyes move back to her and her cheeks slowly begin to redden again when he just stares at her in slight awe. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and shifts slightly in her seat as though trying to get him to tear his gaze away. 

He doesn’t until Marta places a plate in front of Jemma with a beaming smile. Jemma and Fitz break the stare simultaneously, with her moving to smile at Marta as his eyes zero in on the scones in front of her. He thinks he hears her say thank you but is too focused on the delicious pastries and his rumbling stomach to notice. 

“Can I get some of the blueberry scones as well Marta?”

He breaks his gaze from Jemma’s plate and turns to the older woman with the warmest smile he can muster in such a state of anxiety. The smile falters when he sees Marta begin to shake her head as she looks at him apologetically. 

“I’m sorry Mishka… we’re all out.” 

Fitz blinks at this before his eyes flit over to the still swinging door leading into the kitchen where he can _clearly_ see a cooling rack of various pastries, _including_ his aforementioned scone of choice. 

“But I _just_ saw you take some out of the…”

His words slow as Marta shifts to stand behind Jemma, whose own arms are crossed triumphantly over her chest, and Fitz slumps down in his seat as he realizes that he likely won’t be enjoying any TeaTime delicacies anytime soon. 

“Alright, I get it.” 

Fitz’s eyes flicker between the three women before him and he nods his head in understanding while somewhat dejectedly reaching for a sugar packet to keep his hands busy. He keeps his eyes fixed on the table until Marta speaks up and breaks him from his reverie. 

“Will you still be coming round this week to fix the rest of the appliances Fitz?” 

The older woman actually looks a bit worried that he’ll say no, likely assuming that her role in Jemma’s plotting means Fitz won’t be willing to make good on his own promise, and he just waves his hand at her as he nods dismissively. 

“Yeah, ‘course Marta. Though I’ll have to check with my boss to see if it’s okay.” 

He shoots Jemma a pointed look at this and she just grins in delight as she plucks one of the mouth-watering scones off of her own plate and bites into it with an exaggerated moan. 

Fitz swallows at the combined visual and audio and quickly focuses gaze on his twiddling thumbs before Jemma realizes that her teasing is getting a _much_ different reaction out of him. May shoots him a knowing look though and he hangs his head in embarrassment as the other woman takes the recently signed contract and begins to put it in her briefcase. 

“Well… I’ll make a copy of this and send one to each of you for your personal records.” 

He and Jemma nod appreciatively at this and Fitz can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face as he turns to look at the woman in front of him. She catches his eye and shoots him a questioning look that causes his smile to grow even more. He sticks his hand across the table in Jemma’s direction and positively beams when she rolls her eyes and grabs it in her own.

“Well Jemma, I have a feeling that this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.” 

Jemma groans at his words but doesn’t release his hand as a small smile of her own crosses her face. 

“You’d better show up on time Fitz, preferably in work-appropriate attire. I have no problem with you admitting you’re stupid but… maybe save this particular ensemble for casual Friday.” 

Her words cause him to drop his head on the table with another groan but he feels her squeeze his hand once before releasing it and smiles into the linen cloth that his face is pressed against. 

 _Beautiful partnership indeed._  

-O- 

When he arrives back at his apartment, he’s met with a cackling Skye who manages to choke out, “ _When we have kids,”_ between bouts of laughter. 

Fitz walks past her with a glare that doesn’t detract from the rosiness of his cheeks, and storms into his room only to be met with the sight of piles and piles of clothes. 

He groans at the sight and plops down on his bed to begin the arduous task of sorting through everything to fold and put back in its rightful spot. It’s a mundane task to say the least, not something particularly awful, but as Fitz sorts his shirts from his pants, he wonders how many of these inconveniences he’ll have to deal with a day. 

Jemma has accomplices everywhere and, though he doubts she’ll do anything _truly_ awful considering how inherently decent she is, Fitz is positive that he’ll be facing a slew of aggravating tasks and situations if Skye has any say in the matter. 

The shaving cream covering his face and hand when he wakes from his midday nap only confirms his suspicions. 

-O- 

On Monday morning, Fitz is waiting outside of their new lab space excitedly bouncing on his feet as he eagerly watches for the familiar chestnut locks of hair to round the corner. His face lights up when Jemma comes into view and he waves at her like a small child as she moves towards him. 

When she stops a foot away from him, Fitz eagerly extends his hand and motions for Jemma to do the same. When she finally does, with a quizzical look, Fitz drops the keys to their new lab into her palm with a grin. 

“I wanted you to be the one to open it for our first day.” 

Jemma stares at the keys for a long moment before looking up at him with an almost touched expression on her face. 

“Really?” 

“Of course! That’s your set by the way. I soldered JS onto them so there will be _no_ excuse for me to umm… _mistakenly_ grab them and use them myself.” 

Jemma’s eyes narrow at this and Fitz scuffs his feet as he rubs the back of his neck under her scrutiny. The silence lasts longer than he’d like and he almost opens his mouth to apologize for his general idiocy but Jemma just rolls her eyes and moves past him into the building. He follows closely behind, stopping when they reach the door to their lab. 

Jemma looks over her shoulder at him with an excited smile that Fitz knows is mirrored on his own face. She turns the key, pushing the door open, and Fitz holds his breath as he waits for her to walk in for the first time while _knowing_ what exactly it is she’s walking into. 

He flicks the lights on behind her and bites his lip as he moves his head around the lab space and takes everything in. He’s _mostly_ taking _Jemma_ in and finds that she’s far more worthy of his attention than the various beakers and blueprints he’d plastered on his side of the lab. He watches as her head swivels around and smiles warmly when her eyes lock on his. 

She looks at him pensively for a few moments before moving her hand to her hips and tilting her head at him. Fitz swallows as Jemma’s eyes rove over him and he fists his hands at his side, waiting for her to speak. She moves over to where she’d placed her purse on the countertop and reaches in it, pulling something out that Fitz can’t quite make out. 

She turns back around and tosses him a box that he fumbles with as he snatches it out of the air. He glances down at what Jemma had tossed to him and groans at the sight of the bow atop the box of magenta lab gloves. He glances up at her and sighs in resignation at Jemma’s arched brow and mischievous grin. 

“Well Fitz. Let’s get to work.” 

-O- 

Fitz realizes almost instantly that his earlier prediction that he and Jemma would be great partners was entirely spot-on. They bicker constantly, mostly with Jemma chastising him over improper lab safety and the terrible names he gives all of his prototypes, but for the most part they work quite seamlessly. 

Despite this, there’s still a palpable tension surrounding them that Fitz is all too aware of. 

He spends most days carefully walking on eggshells, wary of doing or saying anything that might end his slowly mending relationship with Jemma, while she shoots him pointed looks that clearly suggest she knows _exactly_ why he’s being so unfailingly polite… and isn’t buying it.

Skye spends each day finding new, generally _unsubtle_ , ways of torturing him at home, but Fitz is all too aware of the fact that Jemma’s lack of commentary on her previous threat means that something big is likely coming his way. 

After a solid week working together, Fitz tentatively approaches Jemma at her section of their shared space and shoves his hands nervously in his pockets when she glances up from her work with a puzzled expression. 

“So umm… I realize that it’s not in the contract we signed but… the court-ordered community service isn’t… well it’s not exactly plausible unless I cut out of here a bit early sometimes.” 

Fitz glances at the clock he’d built and mounted during his lunch break on the third day, and notes that he has roughly half an hour to get to the address Darcy had given him for his first day of volunteer work. Jemma follows his gaze before flicking her eyes back to him and looking as though she’s having to deal with a small child. 

“Okaaay… Fitz, you don’t need my permission to leave. This isn’t exactly a conventional place of work. We can both come and go as we please, remember? We set our own hours just as much as we set our own deadlines.” 

Fitz nods his head along with her words, fully aware of the fact that this is in fact actually the _opposite_ of a conventional working environment, but still wanting to assure Jemma that he’s as committed to what they’re doing as he would be if they were doing it in an established company setting. 

“Yeah, no, I know. It’s just… common courtesy y’know? I figured I should let you know and umm…” He reaches in his pocket to grab at the crumpled piece of paper and unfolds it before handing it to Jemma. 

“I… that’s my community service schedule… barring any last minute changes of course. I just figured you should have it so we can do the best work we can and not get too mucked up with our progress by me suddenly having to leave.” 

Jemma takes the paper from his outstretched hand, glancing at it for a brief moment, before moving away from him. Fitz notes that she’s headed towards the waste bin and swallows the minor pang of hurt caused by the sight. He watches her, expecting her to crumple the paper in a ball and chuck it out of her sight, and is surprised to see Jemma veer left and open the drawer that they’d quickly decided would house the miscellaneous lab items. She grabs a roll of tape from the drawer, pulling two small pieces, before moving back towards him and promptly taping the SHIELD schedule to the communal section of their lab’s wall space. 

She glances at him with a quirked eyebrow as though questioning whether he has anything to say about her decision, and Fitz just nods in a slight stupor as he gives her a thumbs up. She nods in turn and moves back to what she was going, leaving Fitz to stare after her in wonder. 

“Okay well…” 

He pauses, not knowing quite what to say, and is saved once again by Jemma jumping in. 

“Goodbye Fitz. See you bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

Her eyes are focused on her work, meaning she thankfully can’t see him nodding stupidly at her, so Fitz pivots on his heel and heads for the door.

“Bye then!” 

-O- 

Hours later Fitz slams the door behind him as he walks into his apartment, cringing at the way the motion causes a _certain_ smell to waft up from his clothes, and bypasses Trip and Skye where they’re canoodling on the couch so that he can head directly to the shower in an attempt to wash the day off himself. 

After he all but burns the flesh from his body with the scalding water, and uses roughly half of Skye’s scented body wash, Fitz finally emerges to join his friends where they’re seated in the living room. 

Based on the small smile Skye is giving him Fitz is fairly certain that she knows _exactly_ what had caused his testiness, but Trip is still looking at him with an expression of confusion, meaning he’ll likely have to regal the two of the absolutely _terrible_ volunteer work he’d been forced into by Darcy and, he _now_ knows, Jemma. 

“Is this sour mood because of _work_ or because of _volunteer work_ with SHIELD?” 

Skye bites her lower lip at her boyfriend’s question and Fitz grits his teeth at the sight. He gives her a very pointed look but she schools her features to an expression of false innocence and stares back at him in equally feigned confusion.

“I’m assuming, since _work_ was this morning… Fitz here is in a bad mood because of the volunteer _SHIELD_ work.” 

Skye shoots him another look that is so full of mischief and hidden information that Fitz wonders just how long she’s been aware of the horrors he’d been forced to face today. He glares at her for a long moment before speaking through clenched teeth. 

“It _wasn’t_ SHIELD work. It was just volunteer work in general that Darcy set up for me.” 

Trip blinks at Fitz’s words and turns between him and Skye, trying to get a read on why his girlfriend is grinning while her roommate looks to be about two seconds away from lunging across the coffee table and locking her in a choke-hold. Trip turns back to Fitz and tilts his head in confusion. 

“So… is that… is that a _bad_ thing? Does it matter what you’re doing since it all counts towards your court-ordered hours anyways?” 

“Just wait for it…” 

Skye’s words cause Fitz to narrow his eyes but his friend just snickers in response, curling further into Trip’s side before waving her hand and motioning for him to continue. He makes sure to glare at her for a solid minute before huffing indignantly and rubbing a hand over his face as he’s forced to relive the events of this afternoon. 

“Apparently Jemma volunteers for this club at the elementary school whenever she has the free time…”

Trip lets out a snort at this and shakes his head in slight wonder. “Of _course_ she does. Man, that girl’s perfect huh?” 

Skye nods eagerly at Trip’s words and Fitz subconsciously does as well before he realizes what he’s doing and stops so quickly that he wonders if he’s pulled a nerve in his neck. He shoots the other man a look and proceeds to bitingly respond to Trip’s (rather accurate) description of Jemma. 

“Oh she’s perfect alright. Perfect at figuring out how to trick me into doing the _one_ thing that would make me miserable.” 

“Which is…?” 

“The club is a _science_ club. So every week they get someone to come in and do a demonstration from a specific field…” 

Trip visibly relaxes at this and shoots both Fitz and Skye one of his enormous grins as he excitedly begins to speak. 

“Oh! Oh that’s awesome! So you got to show-off some of your cool tech to kids that are actually interested in it?”

Fitz’s eyes are focused on Skye, who’s biting her lip in a manner that actually only accentuates the small grin on her face. He slowly begins to shake his head, not taking his eyes off his roommate, as he quickly corrects Trip’s assumption. 

“Nope. This week was focused on _biology_. Specifically, dissections. Jemma was _supposed_ to be on hand to help the scheduled scientist but _apparently_ told him she couldn’t make it and that he should expect her _Scottish co-worker_ to help him with anything concerning the demonstration.” 

Skye lets out a bark of laughter at this while Trip’s eyebrows furrow until Fitz can visibly see everything click into place for the other man. Trip grimaces slightly and looks at Fitz as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Oh no…” 

Fitz nods slowly, flicking his eyes between his friends on the couch, and shivers slightly at the memory of what _helping with anything concerning the demonstration_ had actually entailed. 

“Oh _yes._ I spent _three hours_ working with various dead cats that were shot up with so much formaldehyde they’d probably last a solid month in the Sahara before starting to decay.”

“Gross.” 

“That, _Trip_ , is an understatement. I did noneof the cutting but, as the assistant, I had the luxury of holding each and every one of the various internal organs that were removed. Said _pleasure_ was then expanded as I was forced to carry each of said organs around the room to all of the students, who _ooh’d_ and _aah’d_ as though something so putrid was as extraordinary as a goddam unicorn.” 

He watches as Trip winces and Skye covers her mouth with her hand in a failed attempt at hiding the growing smile on her face. Fitz knows better than to expect any sympathy from his roommate considering the role she likely played in today’s nightmare, so he focuses his attention on her boyfriend in the hopes that _Trip_ will at least show the proper amount of horror while listening to the story. 

“One of the little rugrats was understandably _petrified_ by what they were witnessing and jumped up like a lunatic as they bolted around… which made _me_ trip backwards into one of the basins of formaldehyde.” 

Trip winces and even Skye seems to visibly cringe at the visual. Fitz snatches the bowl of pretzels that had been resting on the coffee table and throws one into his mouth before continuing. 

“Apparently the only thing more exciting to young scientists than dicing up poor household pets, is watching a grown man scream like a girl, drop intestines on the floor, slip on them like a banana peel, and proceed to strip down in the decontamination shower.” 

Trip’s mouth drops open at this and both of Skye’s hands fly to her mouth as Fitz’s face turns red and he shifts his focus to the pretzels in his lap. 

“Oh Fitz…” 

Fitz just nods at his roommate’s words and grimaces slightly as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. He’s well aware of how ridiculous he’d looked earlier, frantically hopping around under the small shower and doing everything he could to rid his body of the awful-smelling substance, and doesn’t much care to go into too many details with Trip and Skye. His hands move from his neck to the bridge of his nose and he pinches it before continuing. 

“It was not my finest moment to say the least. I would’ve much preferred just picking up garbage on the side of a highway if I’m being honest.” 

Both Skye and Trip let out small chuckles at this. 

“Yeah I bet.” 

Skye gives him a knowing look that Fitz quickly understands means something along the lines of, “And that’s _exactly_ why you ended up doing something you hate.” 

Skye more than anyone knows how negatively Fitz reacts to gross smells and disgusting biology, meaning that she _definitely_ felt the need to pass the knowledge along to Darcy and Jemma, knowing full well that they would use the information to their advantage and put him in his place. 

“I mean, kudos to Jemma and Darcy for organizing that whole thing, obviously I deserved it but…” 

“It still sucked.” 

Trip looks at him in understanding and Fitz lets out a wry grin as he nods along to the other man’s words. 

“It really, really, did. M’pretty sure those kids have some embarrassing footage of me that would put any of yours to shame.” 

Fitz groans and rubs his hands over his face as he shivers at the memory of the flashing cell phones, and wonders what he’ll have to do to convince Skye to hack into the internet and erase any evidence of him screaming in his underwear from whichever social media sites those kids likely posted them on. 

Judging by the way she’s now laughing at the image… he doubts she’ll feel so inclined to get rid of _anything_ as quickly as he’d like her to. 

Trip reaches over and gives him a sympathetic pat on the back before telling him that his terrible day means he gets to pick dinner and the movie. Fitz perks up a bit at this and, though part of him wants to choose food and a film that he _knows_ Skye will hate to pay her back for her involvement, Fitz instead opts to choose her favorites in an attempt to butter her up and prevent anymore payback as awful as today’s. 

-O- 

When he finally collapses onto his bed at the end of the night and reaches to discard his phone on his nightstand, Fitz notices that he has a few missed texts from one Jemma Simmons. He sits up and begins to scroll through them, face growing redder as his eyes scan the screen. 

> **_ FROM JEMMA SIMMONS _ ** **_: Fun fact- in the 7 years since GW Elementary installed those decontamination showers, they have only been used once. Today. By_ ** **_you. Congrats on christening it._ ** ****

Fitz groans at the text and glances at the next one, which only causes him to groan louder.

> **_ FROM JEMMA SIMMONS _ ** **_: Also, you traumatized poor Dr. Nugent! I doubt he’ll ever let me pawn off a co-worker on him to help with demonstrations ever again…_ ** ****

There’s a small smile on his face despite the general awfulness of the day and Fitz is well aware that it’s solely because Jemma is teasing him much like she had during their earlier interactions. He thinks for a moment before typing out a reply and hitting send.

> **_ TO JEMMA SIMMONS _ ** **_: I traumatized him?! You sent the animal rights activist to a DISECTION Simmons. I doubt Dr. Nugent was half as traumatized as me._ ** ****

Fitz holds his breath for a moment, wondering if Jemma will actually respond, and then smiles when he sees the small typing symbol at the bottom of his phone. The smile falters slightly when he reads the words on the screen.

> **_ FROM JEMMA SIMMONS:  _ ** **_I thought your activism was of the, ‘stop SciTech from using this one specific drug by making people feel bad about the animal testing,’ variety? In any case, I hardly think a mid-afternoon bath in formaldehyde could really be bad enough to warrant making a group of 5 th graders cry._ ** ****

Oh… she’d heard about that too…

> **_ TO JEMMA SIMMONS _ ** **_: Alright, there may have been a SMALL group of criers… but it was unintentional! I may have… overreacted slightly and released a few expletives whilst shoving some kids away to get to the shower but… survival of the fittest Simmons._ ** ****

He shivers slightly at the memory of the poor girl in pigtails that he’d picked up and moved out of the way while sprinting towards the showers. _She’d_ only cried a little bit but, as is often the case, shock can often lead to a domino effect when it comes to crying.

> **_ FROM JEMMA SIMMONS _ ** **_: You’re deplorable. How do you sleep at night?_ ** ****

His fingers move furiously across the keyboard and he’s hitting send before he fully processes his response.

> **_ TO JEMMA SIMMONS _ ** **_: Earl Grey._ **

He waits for five minutes for a response before giving up and realizing that he might have taken it a step too far. He moves his phone to the bedside table and turns off the lamp so that his room is consumed by darkness, save for the moonlight filtering in through his window. 

Fitz just closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake him, when he hears a faint buzz. He cracks an eye open and hurriedly reaches for his phone when he sees the artificial light from his screen. 

> **_ FROM JEMMA SIMMONS: _ ** **_Good choice. Bring me a cup tomorrow and I’ll trade you for a prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella…_ ** ****

Fitz grins at the message and hastily types a reply, not caring about whatever societal rule made it seem lame to respond to a text within two seconds of receiving it.

> **_TO JEMMA SIMMONS_** ** _: I’ll buy a cup from every diner in the city if you bring me that sandwich._**  

He waits with a smile when the _typing_ bubble appears just as quickly after his own text had been sent and grins when Jemma’s finally comes through. 

> **_ FROM JEMMA SIMMONS: _ ** **_That won’t be necessary, just the one will suffice. A cup of tea better be in my hand by 9AM sharp tomorrow… if it is then your sandwich will be nice and cold, waiting for you in the refrigerator._ ** ****

Fitz sends her a quick affirmation and wishes her goodnight before placing his mobile back on the table and turning onto his stomach, grinning into his pillow as he thinks about how tomorrow is really looking. 

-O- 

“Simmons! Why is there a cat liver next to my lunch?!?!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Fitz and his aversion to cats, but YAY Jemma and the gang for using said aversion to their advantage.
> 
> "There's Always A Backup," will be posted sometime on Tuesday and will reveal a piece of information that's remained hidden for quite some time. (but this time it's something Jemma's been keeping from Fitz)
> 
> Thank you for reading and leaving comments!! I always enjoy hearing what you think :)


	32. There's Always A Backup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret is revealed... but this time it's Jemma's.

After another few weeks of varying degrees of payback, Fitz shuffles into the lab later than usual, sopping wet and generally miserable.

He’d tried to snag an umbrella before leaving the apartment but had found that they’d suspiciously all gone missing. Even weeks after the initial prank, Skye is taking the whole, ‘help Jemma get back at him,’ seriously, no matter how inconsequential the prank, and Fitz has long since resigned himself to gratefully accepting each small inconvenience. He’s well aware that he deserves far worse than what Simmons has been dishing out (though it seems as though she’s only actually responsible for about 12% of the pranks- the other 88% occurring at the hands of his roommate) and Fitz decides that a few hours in uncomfortably damp jeans is worth being greeted by a smirking Jemma in the lab.

She’s leaning over her microscope when he unceremoniously tosses his sopping jacket onto the chair in the corner but Fitz can see the small smile from behind the lab instrument. He huffs slightly under his breath just because he knows it’ll make her smile widen and is pleased when exactly that happens. 

They’ve been working together for going on four weeks but that doesn’t stop Fitz from feeling a sense of dread whenever he enters the lab, always assuming Jemma won’t be there to greet him. Whenever he sees her standing in her corner, eyes focused on her work, Fitz is overcome with relief and gratitude.

He walks over to his own little station situated in their shared space and pulls up short when he sees what’s on the three monitors at his desk. He feels the air leave his lungs as his eyes flit over the screens and he all but collapses into his chair.

“Jem… Jemma?”

His voice is raspy and he can’t tear his eyes away from the data in front of him as he stutters out his lab partner’s name.

“Yes Fitz?”

There’s a knowing lilt in her voice that makes Fitz’s heart hammer in his chest.

“What umm… what the hell is… what… what are all of these files?”

He can hear Jemma move from where she’s hovering over the lab table and only has to wait a few seconds before he feels her presence directly behind him. She’s silent for a few moments as she, presumably, reads what he’s asking about and he watches as she straightens in the reflection of the monitor. He thinks he makes out a slight smile but is too busy trying to reign in his own emotions to question it.

As it turns out he doesn’t need to question it because Jemma is answering him in the next moment.

“Oh those files? That’s all the research I conducted on the GH325 drug while at SciTech.”

She’s so nonchalant in her delivery that, for a moment, Fitz thinks she’s kidding. He swivels slightly in his chair to get a look at her and is met with a smug, yet completely serious, expression. His pulse quickens again and his breathing becomes more erratic as he tries to understand what exactly it is that Jemma is saying. His mouth drops open and he stares at her for a few moments before stuttering rather pathetically.

“The… the… but I de… I… I…”

He can’t form a coherent sentence but it doesn’t matter much because Jemma talks over him immediately and finishes it for him.

“You destroyed them?”

He nods his head dumbly at her, which only causes her smile to widen.

“Yes well, that lunch I had with Skye after your brief incarceration was mostly filled with me crying and yelling about you while our mutual friend used her hacking expertise to get most of the files back.”

Fitz’s mouth drops open even more at this reveal and his mind instantly goes back to the conversation he’d had with Skye weeks earlier as she vehemently insisted that she be mutually accessible to both him and Jemma.

“You… she… she…”

Jemma nods along with his stammering and leans against his desk as she gives him a look that he can’t quite decipher. “She really is quite talented. Recovered oh… I’d say 70% of my research? And luckily all the stuff she couldn’t get back was safely tucked away on my personal hard drive at home.”

“What?!”

Fitz shoots out of his chair at this and takes a step closer to Jemma just as she crosses her arms and shoots him an incredulous look.

“Honestly Fitz, how stupid would I be to leave all of my research in the hands of SciTech? I’m not an idiot you know. I was always well aware of the company’s questionable control over their employees, there’s no way I was going to give them everything I had. Which is why, every day, I’d back up my findings on my personal hard-drive before taking it home.”

Fitz’s eyes bug out at this and he takes another step closer to Jemma, hovering in front of her as he moves his hands and runs them through his hair. He blinks rapidly, mind whirring as he processes the fact that his complete destruction of Jemma’s research was actually only a destruction of the research that SciTech had access to.

“I tried to tell them this when they were firing me… but once I realized how quickly they were jumping at the chance to let me go… and how uncomfortably eager they were to get their hands on my work… I figured SciTech didn’t deserve to know my research was safe and sound. I don’t plan on letting anyone use it after what you told me… least of all them.”

Jemma gives a small shrug that has Fitz’s mouth dropping open in astonishment as his entire mind begins to mush.

“You… you… I was… What the hell Jemma?!”

He collapses back into his chair, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands as he tries to keep his breathing in check and keep his roiling stomach from causing him to puke in the pristine lab. There’s a faint buzzing in his head but it’s not enough to block out the sound of Jemma’s sigh of exasperation.

“Don’t, ‘What the hell me Fitz.’ We wouldn’t be standing here right now as lab partners if you’d successfully destroyed my work. Everything you’ve done has been barely excusable and if you actually had managed to delete all of those files… I wouldn’t have been willing to speak to you let alone work with you. Honestly. ”

He doesn’t hesitate to launch himself from the chair again and wrap his arms around Jemma in the tightest hug he’s ever given. He can already feel the tears making their way down his face and he can’t stop the sniffle from escaping as he burrows his head into the space between Jemma’s neck and shoulder. He thinks this might be a combined panic attack and complete emotional and mental breakdown but he doesn’t care enough to try and stop the inevitable.

“Woah, Fitz what…”

He can feel the way Jemma tenses in surprise at his breakdown and the tears come down faster when he feels her hand tentatively pat his back.

“Oh Fitz… I was just messing around… You know, part of the payback thing! I didn’t mean to really upset you.”

Fitz pulls back in shock at this as he gazes incredulously down at the woman who is actually looking contrite about being intelligent enough to have a damn backup. He hastily runs his hands over his face, trying to get rid of as many tears as he can, before looking up again in complete awe.

“Upset? Upset? I’m not upset! I’m… I’m the opposite of upset. I’m relieved. I’m so… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry Jemma. I didn’t… Doing that… and… and thinking that I really took all of that away from you… I… I just…”

He takes a shaky breath as he tries to find the words to adequately describe the nausea that has followed him since that night at SciTech and he feels the way that the reminder of his actions seems to pierce through him like a sharp knife.

“I… I… Oh god. I’m so sorry. I can’t… I can’t tell you how sorry…”

Jemma cuts him off and he’s grateful because another few seconds likely would have had him collapsing on the floor in a sobbing heap.

“Fitz! I know. I know you’re sorry. That’s why I showed you this! No more lies remember? SciTech’s only redeeming quality was that they were throwing money at me. Other than that it wasn’t exactly an experience to write home about. We’re partners now and… I just didn’t feel like holding this over you anymore. You’re… you’re forgiven Fitz. For that you’re forgiven.”

Jemma is looking at him as though she’s afraid he might pass out and, honestly, he’s pretty close. He feels himself getting dizzier as he processes her words and falls back into his chair hard enough to make it jolt back and thud into the desk. Jemma’s eyes widen at the sound but Fitz is too focused on the word forgiven to care about how much of an embarrassment he is.

He looks up at her with what he’s sure is a pitiful expression and lets out a tremulous smile as he notes the sincerity in her eyes. “You… you mean that?”

He almost sobs again, this time in happiness, when he sees Jemma’s standard eye roll, paired with the exasperated sigh that is so often directed towards him.

“Yes Fitz. I mean it.”

He feels the tears well up in his eyes again and hastily scrubs his palms over his face before they can actually escape. He glances up at Jemma again and notes that she seems to be just as visibly affected by her act of forgiveness. She’s not crying but her eyes definitely have a sheen that isn’t typical. Fitz sniffles again as he shifts his chair slightly and rummages through the loose papers on his desk before finding the USB stick that he’d done his best to keep away from Jemma.

Now with the revelation that she still has all of her own research, his late night activities seem completely stupid, but Fitz still extends his arm towards the woman in front of him, timidly offering her the little USB.

Jemma raises an eyebrow at the gesture, eyes flicking between his outstretched hand and his hesitant expression, before she slowly reaches out to take the small stick.

Fitz tilts his head slightly towards the USB port on his computer and Jemma furrows her brows as she takes his silent hint and inserts the device into the Mac. He holds his breath as the little icon pops up on the screen and clenches his fists at his side as Jemma double clicks.

He knows it’s not much, barely anything in the grand scheme of things, but that doesn’t mean his nerves aren’t on high alert as Jemma clicks on each of the folders contained on the little USB. Her eyes move rapidly across the screen, widening in unison with her mouth as she opens each file.

“Fitz… what is all this?”

It comes out as a choked whisper and Fitz swallows at the emotion within Jemma’s voice. It takes him a few seconds to get the courage to vocalize his horrible attempt at rectifying his past actions and his whisper is just as soft as hers when he finally manages to speak.

“It’s… it’s all the GH325 research I could remember from… from when I erased your stuff. My memory isn’t exactly photographic but… but it’s pretty close and your work was so incredible that it wasn’t all that difficult to at least remember the key stuff. I… I’ve been staying late trying to redo the data. The findings weren’t all that hard to rewrite, obviously it’s not as eloquent as what you had but… but I did my best to at least get the important bits written down. The… the graphs and statistics were more difficult than I thought they’d be but... I… I had to at least try to… I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask Skye…”

His voice tapers off when Jemma turns to face him with wide, tear-filled eyes. Fitz can’t quite decipher her expression, completely unable to determine what exactly the tears mean. He slinks down in his chair, desperate to make himself smaller under Jemma’s penetrating gaze, and waits in silence as she looks on.

“You tried to redo it all?”

It comes out in a slight whisper and Fitz has to look down for fear of having to see the inevitable disappointment and doubt in her eyes. He sighs as he thinks of his idiocy and his hand immediately moves to rub at the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes on the floor.

“Tried being the operative word. Obviously… Obviously it was a complete failure. I don’t even know why I bothered…”

“Fitz.”

“…I mean this stuff is nothing compared to what you actually had and it’s just so shoddy. It was a complete...”

“Fitz…”

“…waste of time. So stupid. Thank god you still have… I shouldn’t have even attempted to… let alone show you…”

“Fitz!”

His mouth snaps shut at the sharpness of her voice and the firm grip he feels on his shoulder. He tilts his head up to glance at Jemma who is looking at him with something that, under any other circumstances, Fitz would categorize as affection. He blinks owlishly up at her and swallows audibly when her hand shifts slighty, fingers brushing his neck as her palm remains on his shoulder. Jemma is silent for a few long moments, simply staring at him pensively, before she opens her mouth to speak.

“I appreciate the effort.”

Fitz blinks up at her again and feels the breath leave his lungs at the sight. She squeezes his shoulder with a small smile before turning around and walking back to her little area of the lab, leaving Fitz gaping after her and wondering what exactly just happened.

The rest of the day is spent with him shooting Jemma timid glances, half expecting the other shoe to drop, and worrying that she might turn around, take it all back, and demand that he get the hell out of her life. Instead she just shoots him small smiles and nods fondly when he timidly shows her his latest designs.

At the end of the day it’s still pouring and Fitz stares forlornly out the window as he glances at his still damp jacket. He sighs in slight dismay as he shrugs on the wet material and heads for the exit, locking the door to the lab behind him as he prepares himself for the downpour.

He pulls up short when he sees Jemma standing at the end of the hallway and stares at her in stunned silence until she rolls her eyes and says, “Well come on then! If I’m going to share my umbrella with you, you’d better hurry up because I’d quite like to go home!”

Fitz lets the beam engulf his face and all but sprints down the hallway towards Jemma, who’s tapping her foot impatiently in an attempt to counteract the amusement in her eyes. Fitz doesn’t hesitate to take the umbrella from her, ignoring her affronted look, and steps into the rain as he opens it up and holds it towards the door so Jemma won’t get so much as a drop of water on her when she steps outside.

Fitz swears he hears her mutter, “I can hold my own damn umbrella,” but ignores it in favor of focusing on the upturn of her lips as she steps beneath the cover and lets him move closer to shield them both from the weather.

The walk to her apartment is quick, both of them moving rapidly to get away from the rain, and when they stop outside her building Fitz thrusts the yellow umbrella into her hands and steps out from under its protection. Jemma tries to hand it back to him but Fitz just grins and waves her off as he turns around and begins walking to his own apartment.

He hears Jemma’s shout over the thud of the rain and smiles at her exasperated, “Well if you were just going to get soaked anyways, why did spend the past five minutes carrying that umbrella around like the damn Secret Service?!”

Fitz chuckles slightly at this and turns around to face her. The smile dies down as he takes her in, hair slightly damp and cheeks flushed from the chill, and notes that she’s the literal sunshine in an otherwise grey world. He looks at her for a few moments, grinning when she raises her eyebrow expectantly and moves a hand to her hip as she awaits his response.

His smile softens as he shouts back, “Why do you think?”

He waits for a moment because he wants to watch Jemma’s realization, wants to see it click in her eyes, and when he sees her face shift to one of understanding, Fitz nods his head with an accompanying shrug and turns around to make his way home.

He takes his time, enjoying each splatter of water that hits his face, and revels in the knowledge that this storm, like all the others he’s faced, will likely only be followed by pure sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly the earliest posting to date... but today's hectic so I figured, "Better at 1AM than not at all!"
> 
> "Dinner?" is chapter numero 33 and will be posted at a more normal time on Thursday. Normal meaning late-afternoon/evening since that's been my standard.
> 
> My profuse thanks for reading and commenting. I thoroughly enjoy seeing what you all are thinking/which of you totally predicted the entirety of this fic! Hopefully the closing chapters will continue to be enjoyable and successful in tying this whole thing together with a fitting end. Many thanks again!!!


	33. Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz finally gets the courage to ask Jemma something he should've a long time ago. (Since... basically two minutes after running into her on the sidewalk)

For perhaps the first time since they’d begun working together, Fitz arrives at the lab earlier than Jemma. He’s nervously sitting at his desk and when she walks in he quickly turns his head towards the schematics he’s been working on. He waves his hand at her, “Morning Fitz,” but doesn’t look up from the designs until he sees her fully immersed in her own research in his peripheral vision. 

He waits for a few moments before rolling up the schematics and slowly working his way over to her. He’s careful not to bump into any of the items she has on her lab table as he unrolls his designs for her to peruse. Jemma’s eyes light up when she sees the tweaks he’s made to the prototype and then immediately roll when she spots the hastily written, ‘Night-Night Gun,’ on top of his specs. She sticks her fingers on the words as she sighs in exasperation and gives him a pointed look until Fitz bashfully erases the sloppy writing at the top of the page. 

Jemma gives him a satisfied smirk before returning her gaze to the actual schematics and humming thoughtfully as she takes in the changes he’s made. Fitz watches as her smile softens when her eyes reach the adjustments made to better suit the delivery of the dendrotoxin and he decides to swallow what courage he has and choke out the question he’s wanted to ask her since the first day he’d run into her.

“Jemma?” 

Her eyes are still focused on the schematics and the pen she’s been using to scribble her own notes on the edge of the designs is now wedged between her teeth as her fingers rove over the drawings. 

“Hmm?” 

Fitz shuffles his feet slightly and shoves his hands in his pockets, focusing his gaze on the floor as he braces himself. She’s not looking at him, meaning he really has no _reason_ to keep his eyes on his shoes, but he finds that not looking at her while he asks his question makes the whole thing _marginally_ less nerve-wracking. 

“Dinner.” 

She doesn’t so much as glance in his direction when she replies. 

“Sorry?” 

Fitz coughs once, hoping that clearing his throat will somehow magically make him more adept at this, before trying again. 

“Umm… dinner?” 

Jemma still doesn’t look up but Fitz can see her eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion at his mumbled words. 

“What are you going on about?” 

He takes a shaky breath, clenching his fists at his side, and rips of the Band-aid. 

“Would umm… would you like to have dinner with me? Tonight?” 

The pen falls from Jemma’s mouth as her head snaps up in his direction and Fitz physically recoils at the sound of the red Bic clattering against the table. He knows that his own face is likely the same shade as Jemma’s pen and begins to feel nauseous as he glances up from his shoes to hesitantly look at the woman in front of him. 

“ _What_?” 

Fitz gulps at the surprise and incredulity in her tone and wonders if his question was really as preposterous as Jemma seems to find it. He takes her complete befuddlement as an omen that this was a _really bad idea_ but he’s already too far in to play it off like a joke. So he takes another shaky breath, clears his throat, and continues forward. 

“I… I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me… you know, someplace nice. Tonight. Like… like a date. A _date,_ date.” 

Jemma is silent for a few long moments and Fitz feels his heart sink as he realizes what the silence likely implies. He rubs his neck as he tears his eyes away and begins to back up and move towards his own workspace. 

“It’s… It’s fine if you don’t want to… I didn’t mean to make things awkward. Just umm… just forget I asked.” 

There’s still no response from Jemma and Fitz scratches his nose in embarrassment as he reaches for one of the prototypes on his desk and focuses on the little device rather than his increasing despondency. 

“What… what exactly did you have in mind?” 

He blinks his eyes in surprise as his head snaps up in Jemma’s direction. She’s staring at him somewhat blankly, making it difficult for him to get any kind of read on her, and Fitz stares at her in shock for a few moments as his mouth catches up with his brain. 

“Sorry?” 

Jemma shifts slightly, fiddling with the pen in her hands, before straightening with a sigh and tilting her head at him. 

“For the date. What did you have in mind?” 

Fitz’s mouth drops open slightly and he feels a small combination of excitement and hope begin to permeate its way through him. He realizes he doesn’t actually have anything to feel excited about, she hasn’t said yes, but he takes Jemma’s question as a sign that she’s at least willing to hear him out. This is likely his one shot to convince her that a date with him isn’t her worst option for the night, so he drops the prototype on his desk and turns to her eagerly. 

“Oh… oh! Well there’s this little Italian place around the corner from TeaTime… I’m not sure if you’ve hea…” 

“Isabella’s?” 

Her question throws him off slightly, not because he isn’t used to Jemma cutting through his sentences at this point, but because Isabella’s is a nice little place, perfect for romantic dinners, and if Jemma knows about it… Fitz may not be the first to bring her there. 

“Ye… yeah! Have you been?” 

Jemma shakes her head and Fitz feels an odd bit of relief that seems to double with her words. 

“No, there was never a time or occasion.” 

 _Please let tonight be that time and occasion._  

“Oh man, Jemma you’ve _got_ togo. They have this fettuccine alfredo that will literally make you want to hop a flight to Italy. And I’ve already checked out the menu and… there’s I guess… this sort of prosciutto platter with a bunch of cheeses and breads and… well I’ve never had it before but I figured we could try it and then just mock how much it pales in comparison to that sandwich you make…” 

Fitz’s words taper off when he realizes that Jemma is just staring at him blankly and holds his breath at the fact that she’s neither saying nor doing anything to indicate how she might feel about his proposition. She’s just standing in front of him, blinking slowly as though trying to determine whether or not he’s actually asking what she _thinks_ he’s asking, not making any move to stop his rambling with an answer to the previous question. 

It doesn’t seem like she’ll do anything soon so Fitz decides to dig his grave just a skosh deeper and be more direct with Jemma, bracing himself as he fiddles with his hands and looks her in the eyes. 

“Umm… anyways. Yes, it’s a lovely little restaurant and I just… I was wondering if you might like to go… there… with me. Tonight.” 

He holds his breath again, waiting for a response, before sighing in disappointment when Jemma just turns back to the schematics on the table and picks up her pen without so much as a word. Fitz takes this as a clear sign of her rejection and sucks up his disappointment before moving to sit at his station and jot down meaningless notes so it looks as though he’s actually doing something. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Fitz’s head snaps up at Jemma’s soft words and he turns to look at her in amazement. She’s still leaning over the drawings he’d handed her a few minutes prior but Fitz notices that her eyes are fixed on a single point and the hand that’s tightly gripping her pen is unmoving. 

He nods silently at her when she shifts her head to face him. He’s not sure what his face looks like but it’s no doubt ridiculous because Jemma’s lips briefly quirk into the most miniscule of smiles before she nods once and turns back to the diagrams before her. 

“Ri… right. Okay then I’ll just… I’ll just get back to this.” 

He turns to the scattered papers on his desk and stares at them for a solid ten minutes before Jemma calls for him requesting his explanation for one of the recent additions to the design he’d handed her. 

They spend the rest of the morning pretending as though he hadn’t asked her out but Fitz feels the crackling tension between them and is relieved when he glances at his watch hours later to see that it’s time for him to leave for his SHIELD work. 

He mumbles a quick goodbye to Jemma as he puts away all of his supplies before heading towards the door in a bid to make a hasty exit. He reaches for his coat and moves to put it on when he hears his name from across the room. 

“Fitz!” 

He turns around as he’s putting his arms through his jacket and raises a brow at Jemma in silent question as he notes the contemplative look she’s giving him. 

“What time should I meet you at the restaurant?” 

Fitz pauses with one arm through his coat as he processes Jemma’s words before his mouth drops in a dumbfounded expression when he realizes that there’s really only _one_ way her question could possibly be interpreted. 

 _Still… it couldn’t hurt to verify._  

“Wh…what?” 

Jemma’s hands are locked in front of her body and she’s looking at him with a mix of raw vulnerability and exasperation as she rolls her eyes while simultaneously shifting in what Fitz knows is her nervous tell. Her eyes lock back on his and he watches her throat bob as she swallows before his gaze flits back to her lips as she begins to speak. 

“For dinner. When should I be at Isabella’s tonight?” 

He blinks slowly at her, mind buzzing faster than it ever has before, and he answers her question in an almost fugue state. 

“Umm… I… I have a reservation for 7:30.” 

Jemma raises an eyebrow at this and Fitz nervously fidgets in front of the door, rubbing his neck and staring at her with a timid expression. 

“I didn’t think you’d say yes but… but I hoped that you might.” 

He feels a bit stupid saying it, ducking his head at his pathetic admission, but when he looks back up, Jemma is giving him a soft smile that makes him suddenly feel slightly less ridiculous. She stares at him for a few long moments before nodding her head and turning back to her work. 

“Okay. 7:30 it is.” 

She’s already looking at another slide under her microscope, lucky for him considering it means she _isn’t_ looking at him, and Fitz is staring at her in complete stupification. He feels as though he’s misheard her, his brain somehow making him hear what he wanted rather than the reality, so he stutters slightly to clarify. 

“Oh… okay?” 

Jemma just nods, not taking her eyes off of her microscope, and flicks her hand slightly. 

“Mmmhmm. I’ll meet you at Isabella’s at 7:30.” 

Fitz can feel the beaming grin making its way across his face just as easily as he feels the burst of adrenaline shoot through his body. 

“Okay! Yeah… Alright well I’ll just… I’ll be going now. But, I’ll see you later? At 7:30? For dinner? For our dinner _date_?” 

Jemma glances up at him just long enough for him to see her roll her eyes for what seems like the millionth time today before turning back down to jot something down on the massive notebook at her side. Her feigned annoyance doesn’t do much to hide the small smile that Fitz catches a glimpse of before she tries to hide it behind the device in front of her. 

“Yes, Fitz. 7:30 at Isabella’s for a dinner date.” 

“Right. Well I’ll see you then… then.” 

He winces slightly and turns on his heel to save him from any additional embarrassment, instead choosing to let the adrenaline high fuel his movements on autopilot as he all but skips out of the door and onto the city street. He makes it a few blocks in a state of stunned silence before stopping to pump his fist in the air and excitedly grab his phone to text Skye the news. 

She replies with approximately 16 exclamation points and Fitz doesn’t hesitate to respond in the affirmative when her second text reading: _Does this mean I get to pick out a nice outfit for you?,_ comes through. 

The grin is a permanent fixture on his face at this point and Fitz knows that no matter how awful the rest of his day is, it won’t matter since at 7:30 sharp, he has a date with Jemma Simmons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!!! Finally going on a proper date!!! And it only took till the penultimate chapter! HOW people had enough patience to wait so long for an actual date between these two is BEYOND me but... Thanks so much!!!! As always you have my eternal gratitude for sticking around and reading the chapters/leaving generally funny and wonderful comments. Can't believe we only have two more chaps to go!
> 
> The next one, "Dinner." shall be posted sometime on Saturday, as per usual.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!!!!


	34. Dinner.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of bickering, obvious flirting, and an obscene amount of pining, Fitz and Jemma finally have their date.

Fitz all but bursts through his apartment door after returning home from his SHIELD community service. It’d gone a bit longer than he’d initially thought it would and he’s now frantically scanning the apartment, searching for Skye in the hopes that she’ll be able to find him something suitable to wear while he takes a quick shower before dinner. 

She’s not in any of their communal spaces, nor is she in her own bedroom, and Fitz is about to send her a panicky text as he walks into his room. Instead he tosses his phone on his desk in relief as he spots Skye sitting eagerly on his bed, surrounded by clothes that are unfamiliar to him. 

“I got off work early and decided to revamp your wardrobe a little.” 

Fitz takes in the small mountain of clothes and feels a sudden wave of relief wash over him at the knowledge that he _might_ actually be able to look presentable enough for it to seem _somewhat_ plausible for him to be on a date with Jemma Simmons. 

“I love you.” 

Skye grins at his breathless affection and hops off the bed before she moves to usher him in the direction of the bathroom. 

“I love you too. Now go shower while I narrow down our options.” 

Fitz doesn’t have to be told twice and hastily moves towards his little bathroom. He puts the bare minimum of effort into the shower, far more concerned with _time_ than he is with wasting it on choosing between Old Spice or Irish Spring. He just grabs whatever’s closest to him and rushes through his standard shower routine, quickly lathering on his shampoo and washing it out just as fast. 

By the time he exits the bathroom with a towel wrapped securely around his waist, the clothes on his bed have dwindled down to two outfits that Skye is staring at pensively. 

Fitz gulps slightly as he takes in the suits and debates asking Skye if she _honestly_ thinks he can pull such an ensemble off. He keeps his mouth shut though, fully aware that expressing any uncertainty will only result in his roommate going off on a long-winded tangent along the lines of _how could you possibly think I would ever put you in something that I didn’t think you look good in. Honestly Leopold._

He’d rather not waste anymore time than he already has, so he just bashfully points to the slightly less daunting of the two outfits. Skye nods her head thoughtfully before lifting the pieces and thrusting them in his arms, pushing him back into the bathroom he’d just vacated. 

When he steps out, Skye is beaming and immediately steps forward to tie a Windsor in the black strip of fabric that is hanging loosely around his neck. Fitz murmurs his thanks as she steps back and straightens his tie before fixing his collar with a nod. 

“Looking good my friend.” 

He shoots her a dubious look as he glances at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Are you sure?” 

Skye is just nodding her head rapidly as her fingers rove over his suit jacket and pluck whatever stray pieces of lint she spots. 

“Absolutely.” 

His nerves are quelled slightly by Skye’s confirmation but Fitz can’t help but wonder if the person he’s dressing _for_ will share his best friend’s sentiment. 

“Do… do you think Jemma will think so?” 

Skye laughs at this and gives him a soft pat on the cheek. “I think that, unless you get a move on, you won’t make it to the restaurant on time. And if you don’t make it to the restaurant on time… Jemma probably won’t give a rat’s ass how good you look. Which, again, you do.” 

Fitz glances at his watch and sees that Skye is absolutely right. He’s running late, _again,_ and gives his friend a quick peck on the cheek before snatching his wallet and sprinting towards the door. He’s looking around for his keys when he hears Skye’s voice carry across the apartment from where she’s leaning against the doorframe between the kitchen and living room. 

“Fitz…” 

Her voice is soft and, if Fitz weren’t so distracted searching for his keys, he’d likely pause to give the proper amount of attention. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m really, really, happy for you.” 

This actually _does_ make him pause and he glances up at Skye, who is smiling softly at him. 

“Yeah?” 

His voice is slightly tremulous, still disbelieving of the fact that tonight is actually happening, and he can hear his own self-doubt and hesitancy in his words. Skye’s smile grows and she nods her head slowly at him with a look of such fondness that Fitz wants to step across the room and wrap her in a hug. 

“Yeah.” 

Fitz lets a small smile cross his face and he can feel the butterflies begin to beat against his stomach as he responds. 

“I… I’m really happy too.” 

The roommates just gaze at each other for a long moment, matching grins on their faces, before Skye claps her hands and walks towards him. 

“Okay well… your keys are hanging on the rack next to the door.” She moves quicker than he does and grabs said keys from the wall, tossing them to him as she opens the door and gives him one last onceover. “Have fun and make sure you treat Jemma like the princess slash queen that she is. ‘Kay?” 

Fitz nods seriously at her, tucking his keys in his left pocket before patting the other to make sure his wallet is still there. He glances at his watch one last time, noting the blinking 7:03, and gives Skye another kiss on the cheek before walking down the hallway at a slightly brisk pace. He’s given himself a nice cushion of time to get to the restaurant but doesn’t want to risk being even a second late. The reservation and Jemma were both expecting him to be there at 7:30 on the dot and he’ll be damned if he’s not. 

-O- 

By 8:15 that evening Jemma is still nowhere in sight and Fitz is awkwardly waving away the waiter who’s spent the past half-hour trying to tentatively get him to move and free up the table. 

Fitz feels his heart sinking with each passing moment as it becomes more and more clear that he’s been stood up. He sighs in dismay as he reaches for the last breadstick in the basket and shoves it in his mouth as he prepares to flag down his nemesis, the waiter, and pathetically ask for the check. 

His eyes just begin to scan the room for the young man when he does a double take at the entrance and stands immediately as he sees Jemma hastily weaving her way through the restaurant. 

Fitz’s mouth is open slightly as he takes in her appearance, slightly disheveled but otherwise utterly gorgeous in a dress that puts everyone else in the restaurant to shame. He blinks somewhat owlishly as she heads towards him and stares in slight wonder when she finally reaches the table. 

“I’m _so_ sorry for being late. I had an impromptu interview with SciOps that ran longer than expected and I _tried_ to call you but then Skye answered your phone, I guess you left it at your apartment, and then she suggested I _bring you_ your phone, so I had to swing by to pick it up, and at that point I looked like an absolute train wreck so Skye demanded that I let her fix me up and…” 

Jemma pauses for a moment to take a breath and shoots him an apologetic look. “Suffice to say it took longer than expected for Skye to make me look presentable and by the time she was done I… Well anyways… I’m sorry for being so late. I… I’m glad you didn’t leave.” 

Jemma shrugs bashfully and gestures around, tucking her hair behind her ear as Fitz gapes at her in disbelief. They’re silent for a few awkward moments before Jemma shifts slightly, snapping Fitz out of his stupor, and he quickly makes his way around the table to pull out her chair. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come. I thought you were standing me up. You know… I thought it was another part of the whole… payback thing.” 

Jemma’s eyes widen at his confession and she groans as her head falls into her hands. “Oh god I didn’t even _think_ about that… Fitz I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry… I… I wouldn’t do something like that.” 

Fitz hangs his head slightly at this because he _was_ someone who would be so careless with another person’s emotions. He reaches for a breadstick that isn’t there and quickly shifts the movement of his hands so that they nervously tap against the water glass in front of him. His fingers still instantly when Jemma’s hand wraps around them and Fitz glances up at her. 

She looks incredibly serious and Fitz is a bit worried to hear whatever it is she’s about to say. As it turns out, he should feel more elated than worried because the moment Jemma speaks, he feels what little weight has remained on his shoulders disappear immediately. 

“Fresh start Fitz. Payback’s over…” 

She gives him a small smile that he mirrors instantly before tilting her head and looking a bit more mischievous. “Well… payback’s over on _my_ end at least. I’ve been trying to reel Skye in for awhile now but I think she’s having too much fun messing with you.” 

Fitz groans slightly at this and leans back in his chair as he nods along with Jemma. He gives her a slightly pained grin as he opens his mouth and says, “Yeah, I don’t think Skye’s ever gonna stop. She’s _always_ been a right menace and, now that _someone_ has given her permission to go full-mischief… I don’t think we’ll ever get the marginally tolerable version of her back.” 

Jemma grins at this and shrugs oh too innocently as she looks at him. 

“Payback’s a bitch.” 

Fitz rolls his eyes slightly at the phrase and gives Jemma a small glare that isn’t the least bit convincing. 

“Yeah well so is Skye. She’s terrorizing me! Rigged a mop to jump out at me when I opened the closet the other night. I screamed like a girl… again.”

Jemma laughs at this before reaching around for her purse and pulling out her phone, holding it across the table so Fitz can see the small screen. He groans at the combined visual and audio of the aforementioned incident and blushes red at the sight of a now hysterically laughing Jemma. 

He’s about to let out an indignant retort when the waiter walks up and somewhat rudely asks for their orders. Jemma seems a bit surprised by the other man’s demeanor and Fitz shoots him a glare, mouthing, “Tip,” at him when he meets his eyes. The clear threat is enough to make the other man straighten and plaster on a marginally believable smile as he turns back to Jemma and politely inquires as to whether she needs another moment with the menu.

Fitz almost sighs with relief when she just shakes her head and orders, grateful that _she_ at least won’t do anything to the waiter to make him want to spit in _her_ food. He puts in his own order as quickly as possible, tacking on the prosciutto dish he’d mentioned earlier, before turning back to Jemma and grimacing slightly at her questioning stare. 

“He and I have had a few conflicts over the past 45 minutes. Apparently my refusal to give up the table wasn’t exactly conducive for him getting as many patrons and subsequent tips as possible.” 

He gives a bashful look as Jemma’s eyebrows raise at, “refusal to give up the table,” and just shrugs in the hopes that she won’t comment on his sheer determination to wait for her in the restaurant until closing. Thankfully she decides to just stare at him for a long moment before launching into a discussion about the latest _Popular Science,_ which Fitz eagerly jumps into. 

There isn’t a second of silence once they get going and Fitz marvels at the fact that they talk through their appetizer without pause. The topics range from work to more personal things and, it’s not until the waiter is putting down his pasta that Fitz realizes he’s just told Jemma more about his childhood than maybe even Skye is aware of. This startles him a bit considering he shares nearly _everything_ with his roommate, and Fitz wonders how simply being in Jemma’s presence can infuse him with a warmth that he associates with long-forgotten memories of his past and his family. 

He blinks slightly at the revelation and grabs his utensils just as Jemma does the same across from him. 

They eat silently for a few moments, the sounds of forks and knives on plates interrupted only by the sipping of wine, until Fitz notices that Jemma is staring at him appraisingly. He pauses with his fork an inch from his mouth as he watches Jemma’s eyes flit over his attire. When her gaze meets his, she blushes slightly before tilting her head back to the plate in front of her. 

“You’re looking very dapper tonight Fitz. Who knew that all it took was a meal at a nice restaurant to get you to make some wardrobe adjustments and lose the plaid.”

Fitz chuckles slightly at Jemma’s teasing words and focuses on twirling more pasta on his fork as he replies with some self-deprecating humor of his own. 

“Yeah well… It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve dressed up for you.” 

He shovels the pasta into his mouth and chews happily as he savors the deliciousness of the meal and comes close to actually moaning in pleasure at the taste. He glances up at Jemma while reaching for his water glass and pauses with his hand midair as he takes in the confused look on her face. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Jemma’s question puzzles him and Fitz rolls his eyes at her clear attempt at making him talk about another of his more embarrassing interactions with her. 

“Oh c’mon Jemma. We both know that my fib about dressing up for that fake date was only because I was embarrassed thinking that Skye spilled the beans about me dressing up for _you._ ” 

He shakes his head slightly as he begins to twirl around another forkful of pasta but he jumps slightly as Jemma leans forward and comes a decibel short from shouting, “ _What_?!” 

Her expression has morphed from confusion to complete shock and Fitz realizes that maybe she actually _was_ clueless when it came to what he thoughthad been a rather pathetically obvious attempt to look nice for _her._ He swallows his water with what he’s sure is a deer-in-headlights expression on his face and begins to stammer out a more detailed explanation of the last time he’d made such an effort on his appearance. 

“Yeah… I… That’s why I got dressed up that day. It was the first time I was going to see you after the bar and… You looked so… And I just… I thought I should try and make more of an effort because you… You _know_. You always look so… And I wanted to… _too_.” 

He winces slightly at the delivery and wants to groan at his inability to actually provide any relevant information in his stumbled answer to her question. Jemma is staring at him in complete befuddlement, eyes wide and mouth open, and Fitz watches as she physically shakes her head to snap out of her stupor.

“You dressed up for me…” 

Jemma’s words come out slowly, as though she’s trying to see if they sound anymore believable out loud than in her head, and Fitz rolls his eyes slightly in a bid to distract from his blush. 

“Well I certainly didn’t wear a tie for _Hunter_.” 

Jemma leans across the table so quickly that Fitz is startled enough to drop his fork, wincing as it clatters across his plate. He hastily grabs it as Jemma stares at him in astonishment and opens her mouth to speak. 

“But we weren’t even… We hadn’t… You barely even _liked_ me at that point!” 

 _What?!_  

Fitz isn’t sure Jemma is aware just _how much_ he liked her at that point but he’d been so embarrassingly obvious about it that he can’t believe she didn’t have _some_ clue. 

“Oh sure, I _barely_ liked you. I walked with you to work every morning, drove Skye near insane with constant talk of you, and I asked you out on a date before throwing a hissy fit when I saw you at lunch with other guys.” 

Fitz groans slightly at his past idiocy but when he looks up at Jemma, she’s staring at him with wide eyes and he thinks that, perhaps, he should just make things a bit more clear considering all of their issues stemmed from his evasion of the truth and assumption that other people could tell what he was thinking. 

He looks at Jemma and puts his utensils down as he leans across the table. Fitz can already feel the blush making its way across his face and knows that the only way he’ll be able to say what he wants to, is if he averts his gaze from Jemma’s swirling eyes. He shifts his focus to his twiddling thumbs and takes a shaky breath before continuing. 

“I… I meant what I said that night at your apartment Jemma. I’ve fancied you since barreling you over that first day on the sidewalk. I thought you were smart, obviously beautiful, and… I liked being able to talk to you. I didn’t have to dial myself back and everything felt so… natural. That’s why I was so upset you worked for SciTech. I didn’t understand how someone that made me feel like I mattered could work somewhere that made me feel so insignificant.” 

He sees Jemma shift across the table so Fitz quickly looks up, finally making eye contact with her again, and barrels forward. 

“And again, I _know,_ you didn’t have anything to do with the more nefarious parts of SciTech but… after _years_ of hating them, I just felt like I had to hate anyone associated with them. But I never could quite manage to hate you… Despite the fact that some of my behavior may have indicated such a thing.” 

He watches Jemma cringe slightly at this, no doubt being brought back to waking up in an empty bed or getting a call about a break-in at SciTech, and Fitz wonders how the hell he got to this point, mentally berating his inability to stay on course and not be swayed by such depressing tangents. 

“So anyways… Yeah, I dressed up for you. Because I wanted people to see us walking down the street and not think twice. I wanted them to think it was actually _possible_ for someone like me to be talking to someone like you and I… I wanted to do whatever I could to impress you. I wanted to look nice for you, even if it meant letting Skye dress me.”

He gives a wry chuckle at this, hoping that the tacked on sentence will alleviate some of the heavier emotion behind the rest of his ramble, and picks up his fork again so that he can play with his food like a complete child and avoid seeing Jemma’s reaction to his words.

“Fitz?” 

He looks up at the soft tone of Jemma’s voice and is hesitant with his own response. 

“Yeah?” 

Jemma’s expression is as soft as her voice and she gives him a small smile as she looks at him across the table. 

“You always look nice.”

It’s silent for a moment as he processes what she’s just said, but after a few seconds Fitz beams at the familiar words, not even bothering to try and hide his reddening cheeks, and stares at Jemma in what can only be described as awe. Her eyes are sparkling slightly and Fitz’s smile grows before he realizes that he should probably return her compliment. 

“Yeah well… you’re _always_ lovely but… but tonight you’re especially lovely.” 

He hopes that she’ll recognize his words just as easily as he’d recognized hers, and grins when Jemma blushes slightly and gives him an appreciative smile before ducking her head to focus back on her meal.

They chat idly through the rest of dinner, barely pausing to take a breath when they begin dessert, and by the time Fitz is helping Jemma shrug on her jacket to leave the restaurant, he thinks that he’s one second away from floating on thin air.

Jemma turns to him with a beaming smile when he opens the door and ushers her out of Isabella’s. They walk in silence for a few moments before Fitz swallows down his nerves and all but snatches Jemma’s hand from where it’s hanging limply at her side. His body immediately tenses as he waits for her to pull her hand away and use it to slap him in the face for his boldness. Instead, Jemma adjusts her grip and steps closer to him and she launches into further discussion about her latest testing of the dendrotoxin as though holding his hand after a date is the most natural thing in the world. 

They amble on for awhile, neither pointing out the fact that they’d passed about a dozen viable streets leading back to Jemma’s apartment, and continue talking about every topic of discussion that arises. Fitz squeezes Jemma’s hand every so often, a far better version of pinching himself to confirm that this is _real,_ and she blushes as her speech falters slightly every time he does. 

Eventually the temperature drops enough that Fitz feels it’s his gentlemanly _duty_ to drape his jacket over Jemma and wrap his arm around her shoulders to tug her closer to him in a bid to shield her from the cool night air. She doesn’t stiffen like he worries she might, instead wrapping her own arm around his waist and leaning slightly against his shoulder as Fitz continues to discuss the plausible applications of a design he’s in the midst of working on. 

When Jemma’s apartment finally comes into view, Fitz feels a wave of disappointment wash over him as he realizes that their date has officially come to an end. It had unsurprisingly been one of the best evenings he can remember experiencing and he worries that dropping Jemma off will cause her to realize that he’s really not for her. He _thinks_ that they’ve had a pretty decent time together, assumes that Jemma wouldn’t be leaning against him now if she hadn’t at least _slightly_ enjoyed herself, but doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much. 

Their steps slow as they approach her building, finally coming to a stop just in front of the stairs leading up to the door. 

Fitz swallows as Jemma extracts herself from under his arm and turns to look at him. He’s not exactly sure what to do, they haven’t exactly had a _normal_ relationship up until this point, and he hopes that Jemma will take the initiative or at least give him some indication as to what it is he’s supposed to do. 

Instead she just looks up at him expectantly with the eyes that he tends to get lost in. He rubs the back of his neck as she tilts her head and decides to just go for it. He leans forward and then panics at the last second, shifting slightly to place a tender kiss to Jemma’s cheek before pulling back with a blush and a mumbled, “I had a nice time.” 

He doesn’t look up when she replies with something similar and shoves his hands in his pockets as he takes a small step back. When he _does_ look up, Jemma is peering at him speculatively and Fitz cowers under her scrutiny, worrying that he’s done too much or too little to convey the fact that he’d very much like to do this again, preferably every day for the foreseeable future.

“Okay well… I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

Jemma lifts an eyebrow at this and her signature move makes Fitz realize that, considering tonight is Friday, he likely _won’t_ be seeing her tomorrow. He grimaces slightly at the fact that saying such a thing implied that he assumed that tonight had gone well enough to warrant another date, and quickly tries to rectify the situation before Jemma decides the opposite. 

“Wait, no I won’t. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll umm… I’ll see you Monday. Monday morning. Not _tomorrow_ morning.” 

Fitz gives her a small smile that falters slightly when he spots Jemma biting her lip and staring at him contemplatively. He can tell that she’s having an internal debate with herself, and decides that the best thing for him to do is to simply let her work things out and decide what it is she’s going to say. He only has to wait a few seconds before Jemma shifts slightly and looks at him in a way that makes him feel as though he’s on fire. 

“You know… you _could_ see me tomorrow morning. If you wanted to.” 

Fitz’s face lights up at this and he feels his heart swell at Jemma’s implication. 

“Really?! Like… like another date?!” 

He’s still grinning maniacally, too excited by the prospect of having breakfast with Jemma to fully understand her confused expression. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of, you’ll see me in the morning so long as you don’t sneak out of my apartment again _tonight_ but… sure. I suppose if you’d prefer, we can just go on another date.”

“Great! I can take you to Lola’s Diner to meet Couls…wait… I’m sorry, what? Are you… that was… can you repeat that first bit?” 

Fitz is gaping at Jemma, meaning that he can see the smirk make its way across her face as she raises an eyebrow and stares him down. 

“Do you really need me to?” 

Fitz just nods at her with his mouth open. He swallows audibly as his eyes blink rapidly and stares at her in complete astonishment. “I’m always kind of functioning at 30% around you Jemma, so you’ll have to be a bit more clear about what it is exactly that you’re saying.” 

“Fitz.” 

“Yes?” 

“I’m going up to my apartment right now to have a cup of Earl Grey and watch a documentary that I DVR’d. If you’d like, you’re more than welcome to join. Additionally… if we decided to do something _other_ than binge-Netflix, and you were to spend the night, I wouldn’t object to that. _But_ if you spend the night and then leave before I wake up… I’ll quit working with you, I’ll take all of my research, and I will _never_ speak to you again.” 

Fitz’s mouth is open and he’s staring at her as though she’s an actual angel, which, in all fairness, she very well could be. He tries to process her words, to analyze them as an innocent third-party bystander, and concludes that, _yes,_ she had said all that stuff and it _did_ sound like she was suggesting they prolong their first date before thinking about the second.

“Fitz?” 

He blinks sluggishly and stares at her in stunned silence. 

“Do you understand me?” 

He nods slowly at this, snapping his mouth closed in an attempt to look slightly less foolish, and focuses his eyes on Jemma’s so that she can see how sincere he is in his understanding of her warning. 

She smiles at this, shifting slightly, before tilting her head in the direction of the building behind her. 

“Okay good. I’m glad that’s settled. Now, would you like to come upst…” 

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because Fitz steps forward and presses his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss that doesn’t do his feelings for her justice. 

It’s nothing like the desperate kisses they’d shared the last time. This kiss is infused with every regret and hope that Fitz has had since making the biggest mistake of his life. He steps closer, tugging Jemma flush against him, and kisses her in the way he plans to for, hopefully, the rest of their lives. 

He knows that this is it, _Jemma’s_ it, for him and Fitz tries to do everything he can to make her understand it. His hands cradle her cheeks as hers wrap around his waist and Fitz nips lightly at her lips, grinning against her skin when he feels her sharp inhalation. 

When they finally break for air they don’t move far, instead resting their foreheads against each other’s and smiling softly as brown eyes meet blue. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Fitz chuckles at Jemma’s breathless words before leaning forward to once again close the gap between them. He pulls away just far enough to whisper, “Definitely yes. But I still want to take you on another date,” against her lips before gripping her once again and smiling into their next kiss. 

He’s not sure how they make it up the six flights of stairs to her apartment without him noticing, but the next thing Fitz knows, they’re colliding against the walls leading to her bedroom for the second of hopefully _many_ times. He briefly contemplates making some sort of joke about settling in to watch that documentary she’d mentioned, but then Jemma does something with her tongue that causes all thoughts to leave Fitz’s mind. 

They stumble into her room, clothes flying in every direction, and the last thing that Fitz coherently thinks before they stumble into bed is that nothing in the world is quite as wonderful as a second chance with Jemma Simmons. 

As it turns out, the third and fourth chances are pretty damn extraordinary as well.

(But the fifth chance, the fifth chance is his favorite because it occurs after they've both woken up _together_ with the morning sun streaming through Jemma's curtains.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter. Hopefully this date was worth the utterly absurd wait! The epilogue will be posted sometime tomorrow and then... AHH NOTHING LEFT TO POST. (of this at least...)
> 
> My profuse thanks for reading and commenting, it means quite a lot and is a constant motivator for me!


	35. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz wakes up in his too small bed with a solid weight on his chest, and this time it's not a dream.

Five weeks later Fitz wakes up in his too small bed with a solid weight on his chest and a small finger flicking his nose. He groans at the feeling, squeezing his eyes tightly, and tries to turn his head into the pillow to avoid the next flick but the menace on top of him grabs his cheeks in her hand and keeps his face still. He shivers when she leans forward, chestnut hair tickling his chest, and whispers in his ear.

“We’re late for work Fitz.”

He groans again at the words because it’s not the first time he’s heard them and it likely won’t be the last. _This_ thought causes a small smile to tug at his lips but he quickly changes it into a wince before the other person in bed can see his amusement.

“We _can’t_ be late for work Jemma, I’m the boss.”

He grouses at her and blindly reaches to tug at her hands so he can turn his head and bury it into the pillow.

“Hmm… and here I thought _I_ was the boss.”

The weight on top of him shifts as Jemma moves off of him and Fitz quickly moves his arm to follow her. She doesn’t go far, just enough to roll off of him and face him on the pillow. When he opens his eyes, the first things he sees are the pools of caramel in her irises.

Fitz beams at the sight, smile growing as he sees Jemma’s own grin stretch across her face. He moves his hand from where it’s resting on her waist and tenderly moves his thumb across her cheek.

“We’re _both_ the boss.”

It’s a lie though and they both know it. Jemma ismost _definitely_ the boss. He’d do anything she’d ask him to, including waking up at an ungodly hour to get to a lab with hours that _they_ set and that only _they_ work in. Jemma smiles across from him, leaning into his palm and wrapping her fingers through his.

“Shall we take a vote then? All in favor of getting out of bed, getting dressed, and heading to work say I… _I.”_

He grins at her and stubbornly keeps his mouth shut as he shakes his head slowly and refuses to play her game. Jemma quirks an eyebrow at him and then her smile turns into the one that makes Fitz immediately know that he’s in trouble. She leans closer to him, lips a scant millimeter away so that when she speaks they graze his in a manner that is so tantalizing, Fitz wonders if his mind will ever be able to function at full capacity again.

“Say I, Leopold.”

Her whispered words send a jolt of heat down Fitz’s spine and he has to do everything in his power to make sure that Jemma can’t tell how close she already is to making him break. He shakes his head, rubbing his nose against Jemma’s, and smiles as he holds his ground. The smile falters as Jemma presses against the length of him and places a chaste kiss to his cheek before laying similar ones across his jawline.

“Say I.”

She repeats the words in between each of the soft kisses she strategically places across his face and Fitz swallows audibly as he shakes his head again in refusal. He can feel Jemma smile against his neck before she slows her kisses and grazes her teeth against his throat, a move that has proven have a 100% success rate for her so far. Fitz clenches his fists against his side, biting his lip to keep from talking, and takes measured breaths in an attempt to remain seemingly unaffected by his girlfriend.

Jemma’s lips move to his ear and as her teeth tug at his earlobe, Fitz knows that it won’t be long until he breaks.

“Say _I_ Fitz.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just shuts his eyes in an attempt to avoid Jemma’s gaze.

He regrets it immediately because the loss of sight seems to enhance his other senses and he can feel each of the individual goose bumps that rise on his skin as Jemma latches her mouth onto his pulse point. He groans at the sensation, finally breaking the silence he’s tried so hard to maintain, and moves his hand to grasp her waist tightly in his grip. Fitz then groans again for a completely different reason when Jemma quickly moves her lips and body away from him and sits cross-legged on the bed as his eyes fly open and he tries to gain control of his breathing.

“Wha…”

Fitz looks at her in disappointment but Jemma just chuckles and smiles smugly down at him. She scoots further away and shrugs at the pitiful whine that leaves his mouth.

“ _Say I, Fitz_.”

He’s looking up at Jemma, perfect Jemma who he’d spent weeks bickering with, weeks trying to apologize to, and weeks slowly regaining the trust of.

It had been a tumultuous few months but they’d finally formed a partnership in every sense of the world and Fitz is well aware of the fact that he’ll do just about anything Jemma asks him to, including _saying I_. She has consumed him completely and he’s never been happier to be so completely and utterly controlled by another person.

Jemma’s looking down at him fondly and suddenly his past vision of pancakes and Sunday mornings seems like a real possibility. He lets a warm smile cross his face at the thought and decides to do exactly what Jemma is asking of him.

“ _I_ … love you.”

Jemma’s initially smug smile drops immediately at the second half of his sentence and she stares at him in shock, mouth opening and closing before she manages to choke out a startled, “What?”

Fitz leans up slightly, propping himself up on an elbow as he grabs one of Jemma’s hands and rubs circles across her palm.

“You told me to say ‘I’, so I am. I’m saying ‘I’ and adding ‘love you’.”

Jemma looks at him for a few long moments and Fitz panics when he sees that her eyes are beginning to water

“Is… Is this a joke? Are you just messing with me?”

Her voice is tremulous and Fitz quickly sits up to grasp her face in his hands to make sure he stops her tears before they start.

“What?! No! Of course not!”

He leans forward to pepper her face with kisses before moving to her lips and languidly kissing her with as much emotion and honesty as he can manage. When he breaks away he makes sure to stay close and whispers, “I love you,” against her lips.

Jemma sniffles once and he pulls back to look at her. She looks like she wants to believe him but can’t seem to make herself. He knows that she has every reason to doubt his words considering all of their past issues, so he just moves to hug her, burying his face in her neck, and whispers the words over and over until he feels her squeeze back.

They just silently sit for a few moments before Fitz quickly turns and pushes Jemma back onto the bed with a smile. She laughs in delight as he begins to tickle her and she begins to tug at his hair to get him to stop. He grins fondly at her as he lays his head on her stomach and sighs in contentment as she runs her fingers through his hair. He’s on the verge of dozing off when Jemma taps his head to get his attention. He cranes his neck to face her and is met with the sight of her affectionate smile and twinkling eyes that never fail to stop him in his tracks.

She just stares at him for a bit before reaching for his shoulders and tugging at them until he follows her silent demand and scoots up so that he’s laying beside her on the bed. Jemma twists her body, placing her head on his chest and moving her leg to tangle between his. She grabs his hand and entwines their fingers together as she places a soft kiss above his heart.

After a few moments he both feels and hears her soft, “I love you too.”

Fitz grins at the words and feels his eyes water a bit as his heart quickens and begins to hammer against his chest. Jemma’s ear is still pressed against said chest and she laughs at the changing rhythm of his heartbeat. Fitz joins in after a few seconds of feigned indignation and Jemma shifts to lay fully on top of him so that she can lean down and capture his lips in a relaxed kiss. He returns the kiss eagerly, wrapping his hand in her hair and pulling her closer to him.

After a few breathless moments, he flips her, pinning her to the bed beneath him, and once again peppers every inch of her with kisses. He pauses for a moment as his lips hover above hers.

“Jemma?”

There’s a dazed expression in her eyes as she blinks at him and hums in response.

“Can we please take a sick day from work today?”

She narrows her eyes playfully at him and opens her mouth to respond so Fitz cuts her off with a heated kiss to the lips. Their tongues duel for a moment until Fitz breaks away and slowly trails his way down the smooth column of her throat, nipping and sucking at all of the places he’s catalogued over the past few weeks. He whispers _please_ over and over against her skin as his hands begin to wander below her shirt and grins in triumph when he hears her sigh, “Oh alright,” into his ear.

Fitz continues to press his mouth to Jemma, infusing as much love as he can into each contact between lips and skin. He’s completely smitten with the woman beneath him, and that’s one fact that he’ll never again protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAANNNND….. Fin.
> 
> (Fair warning that this note is basically just going to be a written version of me being a blubbery mess.)
> 
> My first (but hopefully not last) attempt at a multi-chapter fic is finally posted in its completion. And it was FitzSimmons no less!!!!! What an absolute ride it has been. I have no clue what I’m gonna do on Tuesdays/Thursdays/The Weekend from now on!
> 
> I just want to profusely thank whoever has read/kudosed/commented on this fic. It may be cliché to say but all of the kind things you’ve said have been an enormous motivator for me and just consistently put a smile on my face. The kudos/comment emails I got from AO3 were usually the highlight of my day so thanks forever for that haha.
> 
> I was dubious about posting this at all and assumed that nobody would really pay much attention to it, so the fact that people have been kind enough to take the time to tell me that they were reading it, and actually ENJOYING it, really just means a lot and I can’t properly articulate how appreciative I am of all of the consistent encouragement and various, “NOOOOOOO” “YESSSSSSSS” “OMG FITZ” comments that you’ve left. I’m still a little flabbergasted that you wonderful readers were willing to stick with TDPTM/me for 35 chapters and, again, you have my eternal thanks for doing so.
> 
> Hopefully you’ll enjoy whatever comes next!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Speaking of… for those of you who were wonderful enough to actually read this silly note… here’s a miniscule snippet from something that I am in the midst of writing…
> 
> “Jemma furrows her brow as she turns around and is met with the sight of an empty bed, and the feeling of cool, rumpled, sheets beneath her fingertips. She swallows at the visual and feels something pang through her chest as she glances around and realizes that, other than her pleasantly sore body, there’s no physical indication that last night had even happened. The clothing she’d all but ripped from Fitz’s body the night before is nowhere to be seen and neither is Fitz himself.”
> 
> Heyo! JemmaPOV coming atcha at some point in the probably distant future.
> 
> Thanks again!!!!! I’m sending mental high-fives your way!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This sucker turned into a bit of a monster of a fic but most of it's already written... which means that HOPEFULLY I'll be able to post chapters every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday.
> 
> The rating will most likely remain T throughout but *might* change depending on whether I have the guts to include one specific chapter that could bump up the rating a letter or two.
> 
> Also, I'm my own beta so any mistakes/issues within this thing are my own fault. (that being said, should anyone want to read some of this thing a bit early and help me figure out any potential problems pre-posting... that'd be cool and my inbox is open)


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